


The Hosts and Their Butler

by Zazibibi



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Aladdin (1992) References, Angst, Angst and Drama, Angst and Humor, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, College, Demon Ciel Phantomhive, Demon Deals, Demons, Disney References, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drinking, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Grell Sutcliff is a Troll, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Jealous Sebastian, Kuroshitsuji II | Black Butler II, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler References, M/M, Other, Peter Pan References, Psychological Drama, References to Ouran High School Host Club, Ridiculous, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Silly, Slow Romance, United States
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 107,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zazibibi/pseuds/Zazibibi
Summary: High school has ended and it's time for the hosts to expand their horizons. In America. The twins have a list of to-dos, Haruhi is intent on tasting everything, Mori wants a cat, Kyoya's keeping secrets, Honey tunes in to his manly side, Tamaki finds himself swept away by promiscuities, and what happens when a butler lacks a master? Also, who's that lady we all love?The beginning of this story is silly, and that's putting it lightly. It was begun by two sisters (Monkeypoo93, aka me, and P.P.Rainwater on ff.net) who just wanted to make each other laugh, and, of course, it then morphed into something wholly other. I guess, you should probably expect that sort of thing to happen if you've got demons and their subsequent contracts involved. If you can get past the first... several chapters, you're guaranteed a story with depth and much ambiguity. Posting this here is an attempt to 'finish' it. Happy reading.
Kudos: 9





	1. The Mafia and the Weed

Tamaki Suoh recently read somewhere that when going to university it is essential to expand your horizons. And starting today, it was the beginning of his new university life… In America.

"Hikaru, Kaoru! Let us buy some weed!" He exclaimed in the princeliest manner he could muster with mustard smeared across his face.

The twins stared at him blankly, but for no more than a moment, huge grins slowly spreading across their mischievous faces.

"Tama-chan, you have mustard on your face… why do you wanna try weed?" Honey-senpai asked innocently, a silver spoon placed delicately to his bottom lip, that just so happened to be smeared with icing.

"Mitsukuni," Mori-senpai spoke monotonously, leaning forward to swipe the affronting icing off of Honey-senpai's bottom lip with a long, lanky finger, then quickly brought his finger to his own mouth to suggestively suck it off.

Tamaki, taking a silken pink hanky from his shirt pocket, swiftly rubbed his own face back to perfection.

"Taking weed into one's body, whether it be through smoke or brownies, is an American tradition… Everyone knows that!" Tamaki declared whilst flinging his arms wide in order to encompass the entirety of the situation.

"Of course everyone knows that, Boss," Hikaru spoke matter-of-factly, nodding his head in agreement.

"But, something that not everyone knows is that in order to intake weed, 'whether it be through smoke or brownies', you must first join the mafia," Kaoru drawled as he leaned languidly back into his chair, his arms crossed, a smirk ghosting his attractively thin lips.

"Oh…" Tamaki let a surprised gasp slip through his lips unheeded. "All Americans are in the mafia?"

In the shadows of The Corner sat Kyoya, brooding over what was being said, a hand placed firmly over his mouth in contemplation, seeming content to let the twins have their fun, for once in a bloody blue moon. Haruhi, on the other hand, had stationed herself in the small bit of kitchen, happily examining a long, engorged bratwurst, its juices slipping ever so slowly down one side, tempting the tongue and seducing the eyes with all its meaty glory. She gazed longingly at its natural curve, its firm figure, and eventually temptation got the best of her, bringing the titillating shaft to her lips for a long awaited taste. Sucking slowly, she was engulfed in the pleasure of stimulating her taste-buds to their full potential, moaning in the ecstasy of the moment.

And of course, at the moment when she had reached her peak, Tamaki decided it would be a good time to ask her opinion on the important matter involving the afore mentioned conversation… about the mafia and weed. He stood in the doorway, completely paralyzed, his eyes wide, mouth agape, a look of surprised agony adorning all of his features, his hands twitching in sexual frustration. Which made absolutely no sense…

Because really, she was just eating a bratwurst.

"Senpai," Haruhi spoke sloppily as she chewed luxuriously at the meat in her mouth.

"H-H-Haruhi, what are you," Tamaki gulped, swallowing the accumulation of saliva that had invaded his dark cavern of a mouth, "doing?"

"What does it look like?" Haruhi asked, as if the answer was obvious.

Tamaki gulped once more before speaking, choosing his words carefully as to not expose the explicit fantasy taking place in The Theatre of His Mind, which could only be blamed on Haruhi's unconscious behavior, "Umm, perhaps you are eating?" He asked cautiously, for he was not so sure himself.

"S&M and noooow," both twins began cheering, but were swiftly cut off by the stern command of their now raging prince.

"No one asked your opinion!" Tamaki yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the lanky devils.

"It's no opinion," Hikaru began, both of them shrugging their shoulders suggestively.

"It's a fact!" Kaoru finished.

"You must cut them in little… bite-sized… nibblitz…" Haruhi mumbled to herself as she scampered around the kitchen, acquiring a knife and fork and a much needed plate.

"I sometimes wonder about her…" Hikaru drawled to himself, leaning comfortably against the doorframe.

"Oh Hura-chan! Make me some Commoner's Coffee wouldja?" Kaoru sing-songed, allowing himself to be swept into the moment, flinging his arms about the shoulders of the short, brown-haired girl.

"Kaoru! Don't touch my little girl!" Tamaki screeched from the sidelines, pointing the forgotten corndog in his hand at the ridiculous display of affection Kaoru seemed intent on showing.

"Oh, she doesn't belong to anyone," Kaoru said while rubbing his cheek against the back of Haruhi's neck. Haruhi on the other hand, was so engrossed in the consumption of her dripping wiener she paid no mind to the inappropriate attentions of the younger twin.

"So the mafia…" Kyoya said, entering the kitchen as he pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his elegant nose with a cold index finger – because all of his other fingers are quite warm, obviously.

All heads turned towards the bespeckled businessman, his visage as it always was, dark and contemplative, and yet, a slight hint of… Well, no one really knew what it was, but whatever it was, it was definitely alluring.

"Oh right, right, rightrightright!" Tamaki spoke in his version of 'a good American accent'. "I shall join the mafia!" he paused dramatically, then, with a look of pure confusion, asked: "So… how does one join the mafia exactly?"

The twins looked at each other from across the room, lightening igniting their intense amber gazes.

"Well, you see Boss…" Kaoru began, letting go of the dazed Haruhi and allowing a smirk to grow across his lips.

"First, you have to go see this band, and you have to buy tickets for all your closest friends," Hikaru came forward, handing over a flyer for a band called: The Butler. "Second, you have to play 7 minutes in heaven at a party with lots of alcoholic drinks…" Hikaru was about to continue but was cut off by a grinning Kyoya, his glasses flashing white, a demonic chuckle reverberating against his Adams apple .

"Third, you must also make a public appearance at the newly developed burlesque club: Black Lace," Kyoya said, one arm crossed across his torso, the other hand cocked to support his sharp chin, the phantom of a smile haunting his pale features.

Hikaru stared at Kyoya with a confused look as Kaoru sidled up beside his twin to whisper in his ear: "Doesn't that seem like something the mafia would do?" to which Hikaru could only shrug.

"B-V-B-V-Burlesque club?!" Tamaki exclaimed. "But that's so… I would never allow myself to drop to that sinful level of inappropriate indulgence!" he clawed at his locks of gold in complete and utter hysteria and horror at the mere thought of the possibility of his compliance to such outrageous madness!

At this moment Haruhi finally swallowed the last of her treat, snapping back into reality. "And aren't those places really disrespectful to women?"

"YES! EXACTLY! Don't worry my dear, daddy will never do it! OH!" Tamaki spazzed, gyrating in a most unseemly fashion.

"They're only dancing in their underwear, what's disrespectful about that? It's only showcasing the beauty a woman's body naturally holds," Kyoya deflected emotionlessly and left the room without fanfare.

"Well if you're not going to do it, you can't join the mafia…" Hikaru grinned.

"And if you don't join the mafia, you can't smoke weed…" Kaoru continued.

Haruhi punched her palm, then, pointed skyward, as if an epiphany had just struck her, and said: "And that's an American tradition."

Both twins smiled upon her fondly. "Oh Haru-chan! You're so smart!" they both praised her, which she obviously could care less about.

"Will there be cake?" Honey-senpai asked, his big, brown eyes shining excitedly as he clutched Usa-chan close to his heart, apparently unaware of what everyone had been talking about.

"Of course there will be," Kaoru exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

"And more," Mori-senpai spoke from the doorway.

"More treats?!" Honey-senpai hopped up and down excitedly.

"I guess you could call it that…" Mori mumbled to himself as he left the room.

"YAY!" Honey bounced after Mori, repeatedly throwing Usa-chan in the air.

"Mitsukuni…" Mori said, his voice traveling to the kitchen.

"Haha, yes Takashi?" Honey said his voice unnaturally high.

"I wan'a cat…" Mori stated simply.

"No, no, no Takashi, you know rules, no animals in the apartments!"

There was a pause, everyone in the kitchen awaiting Mori's reply, straining their ears to hear it.

"I can keep it in my bed."

There was no reply to that.

Those in the kitchen were left to their own imaginations on what Honey could possibly look like in that silent, inconceivable moment. Surely everyone, including Mori, knew what a ridiculous thought that was; Mori would certainly squash the little thing if it were to share his tiny cot in the corner of Honey's large room. It was even so that Honey's own bed was, by far, much, much larger.


	2. The Butler

After a week of planning it was about time for the joining of the mafia to commence. Tamaki was quite on top of things, having already bought the tickets to see The Butler perform and purchased an assortment of the finest, most prestigious, alcoholic drinks intended for later that evening; he was ready to begin his initiation. Although, the burlesque club would have to wait for another time… perhaps there was a way he could avoid that nasty outing altogether.

Hikaru and Kaoru had supplied the costumes for the night, all being that of sensually appealing, American-esque, punk-rock style, which they believed was essential wear for the activities they would be participating in. They were quite proud of themselves. What they had designed for Haruhi was especially appealing… in all the right places, and even hid the fact that she was still rather flat chested. Thigh-high black leather boots accentuated her long, thin legs, a red, frilly, short, filmy-material dress clung to her thin frame and had several folds that made her appear much curvier than she truly was, and they had personally attended to the arrangement of her now long, silken brown locks and the little make-up they allowed her to wear. And for themselves they had marvelous things planned for their own hair.

"H-Haru-chan," Honey-senpai whined, his eyes brimming with glistening tears.

Haruhi and her two personal stylists awaited Honey's next words, scarcely breathing; wondering what could possibly make the usually happy boy so dreadfully despondent.

"You look so sexy! WAHHHH!"

No one was quite sure how this fact could make Honey-senpai react in such an indecorous fashion.

"WHY ISN'T SHE CUTE!?"

"Ah, so that's it," The twins spoke in unison.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'm hungry!" Haruhi declared and left for the kitchen.

The twins and Honey could hear her squeals of pleasure when she banged open a cupboard.

"She's really going to get fat if she keeps eating so much," Hikaru said while shoving his hands deep into his pockets, leaning comfortably against the wall.

"She could use a curve or two," Kaoru replied falling dramatically on the queen-sized bed that the twins shared.

In the other room, the one just across the hall, Tamaki stood before his full length mirror as he took in every aspect of his primped and pampered physique. Admiring his rugged leather jacket, formfitting dark gray, V-neck t-shirt, denim boot-legged jeans, and purple high-top Chuck Taylors.

"Something's missing…" He spoke idly to himself, and search through the clutter on his king-sized bed for the perfect necklace the twins had provided for him; it was a simple purple guitar pic, that matched his converse, suspending on a dark chain, and would bring to life his lovely lavender eyes.

"Alright, that looks… pretty good," He smiled contently at his radiant reflection.

Meanwhile, in Kyoya's room, on Kyoya's bed, sat Kyoya. His room was rather dismal with the only light being that of the few rays that managed to creep beneath his door from the hallway. Having already dressed himself in his own apparel, not wishing to wear the clothes the twins had provided, he thought to himself quietly. He wasn't one to normally comply with such a ridiculous activity like attending a concert, especially one that involved a band called The Butler. He had heard a few of their songs, and they weren't bad, but something about the lead singer… Set him off. Perhaps it was their striking resemblance, in voice and looks.

Kyoya's head jolted towards the door as a timidly repeated rapping went on the other side of the white painted wood.

"Come in," Kyoya said simply, rising from his bed as an attractive transvestite opened his door slowly, entering his room with such grace and poise. "Tamaki, you do realize that your shirt is stuffed, don't you…? And why are you wearing lipstick?" Kyoya asked, his face blank, but his eyes shone with merriment.

The lanky blond(e) took a quick peek down his shirt then stuttered: "W-w-well… I um… Hikaru! Kaoru!" and with that, he fled, hastening down the hall and ramming into the firm chest of Mori-senpai, as Kyoya chuckled to himself, which was a rather sinister sound.

Mori stared confusedly as Tamaki continued his mad dash into the twins' room, then, with an apathetic shrug, he continued on his way to the kitchen to find Haruhi. Just a moment ago, Honey had come stumbling into their shared room blubbing about how upset he was that Haru-chan had lost all cute aspects of herself, and Mori figured it was in his best interest to figure out what, exactly, Honey had meant. And he had a hunch she would be in the kitchen; that was where she had been spending most her time since they had arrived here, like a woman should.

Sure enough, Haruhi was staring fixatedly into the whirring microwave, the two marshmallows she had placed atop the chocolate and graham cracker expanding nicely. They were so divine, a couple of round, white mounds, growing to a perfect size, their plush, pillowy, figures making her mouth water with anticipation. The microwave dinged, sending Haruhi into action. She quickly covered the bulging mallows with the other cracker, then brought the dripping mess to her waiting lips.

"Om!" the sound escaping her dripping cavern in satisfaction.

"Hmm…" Mori hummed to himself, nodding once, as if in approval. Satisfied that Haruhi hadn't changed anything about herself except her clothes, he left the room.

"Hurry up and remove this affronting cleavage, so we can depart!"

"Ok, Boss!" Hikaru agreed.

"On it!" Kaoru yelled.

"OH… oh… OH! Don't be so rough with me, you mean things!"

And in moments everyone shoved themselves into the limo parked outside their high class apartment. Haruhi held tightly onto her s'more, wishing no harm to come to it, unless it be by her own greedy mouth. Little did she know the harm had already been done, by the clutching of her hands…

Hell will come to those who wish it,

I'm not that hard to find,

Luring like a harlot,

Your revenge is mine.

Life is overrated,

So, pass your rose down the line.

Mix your blood with mine.

The music blared through the speakers sending shivers down each of the hosts' spines, then the song ended. The electric guitar player, with the long, bright red hair, pumped an "I love you" with his hand in the air several times then licked his upper lip suggestively, winking at the same time. The multitude of girls, and even some boy, in the crowd screamed at his display of miniscule seduction. Haruhi, however, was not at all impressed; in fact, she had been staring at the bar across the room for a rather long time, wondering if they served any kind of free snack.

"I see you bought backstage passes," Kyoya said calmly as he looked down at his ticket.

"Hmm, did I?" Tamaki asked, leaning in towards his normally bespeckled friend who had, for the occasion, taken off his pristine pair of wire rimmed glasses for a couple of clear contacts.

Kyoya looked at his blond haired counterpart, a small frown creasing his regal brow, wondering how Tamaki always managed to be so dimwitted.

"I just bought the most expensive ones… I wanted to make sure they were in good condition."

"Tamaki… You do realize that makes no sense, don't you?" Kyoya spoke blandly.

"Who cares, this means we get to meet the band members!" Hikaru said, he seemed extremely excited.

"Yeah, I was kind of wanting to meet the smiley one in the back! I don't remember him from any of the pictures…" Kaoru spoke shrilly.

That's when they realized that the show was over, and they had all been yelling for absolutely no reason whatsoever. The crowd was headed for the big double-doors steering clear of the attractive yet strangely dressed group of boys who were obviously foreigners.

"Hey Tama-chan, where's Haru-chan?" Honey asked from Mori-senpai's shoulders; he had been having trouble seeing the show standing normally.

"Oh, well she's right… Huh?" Tamaki looked all around him, but was unable to find the sexily clad girl.

Meanwhile, at the bar, Haruhi sipped at a Strawberry Daiquiri that a very nice red-haired gentleman had ordered and purchased for her. He had assured her, many times, that it was completely virgin, much like herself.

"I love your dress, it's just so… Red… like a gushing wound, spewing crimson," he spoke in a rather nasally, flamboyantly odd voice that wasn't at all NOT pleasing to Haruhi's ears, in fact, she rather fancied it.

"Uh… Thanks, I guess… Your hair is nice too." Haruhi said, a little on the sloshed side.

"Oh thank you," the obscure gentleman replied, flipping his long locks of fire over his shoulder nonchalantly, "Now then, you really must let me try that on," he smiled revealing his wickedly sharp teeth, the whitest teeth Haruhi had ever set eyes on, and she couldn't help but nearly spit the strawberry concoction in the man's face for what he had said.

"What?" She asked rather alarmed.

"Haruhi!" Came the distant call of Tamaki and the other's, all running towards her as if she were in some great danger.

As she was distracted, her sights no longer set on the strange man in front of her, she felt a small touch on her waist, hands gripping at the delicate fabric sheathing her ivory flesh.

"Oh yes, I did pick the right one! …You really MUST introduce me to your lovely friends!"

Haruhi turned back toward the man who still had his cool mitts plastered to her waist, but she couldn't help but notice the small blush transmitting across the man's cheeks as he stared upon the approaching males.

"OH! It sets my heart afire," The man seemed to have lost himself as his body began to squirm with unrequited pleasure, his fingers twitching against her sides.

"Don't touch my little girl!" Tamaki bellowed, his foot rising behind him, fire alighting in his violet eyes, "Starlight… KICK!" His foot collided harshly with the well set jaw of the redhead's face.

"Nnnnhh… Why… always… the face?" The man moaned from the ground, his fingers still twitching.

"My, my… What a mess you've made."

All eyes turned to the sensually placid voice, which belonged to a tall, dark haired man, his eyes seeming to be an unfathomable russet.

"You'll have to excuse this idiot," The lead singer of the band said with a smile curving up the corners of his elegant lips.

"Oh, Bassy... You wound me!" The redhead whined as he righted himself, as if no harm had ever come to him.

"Sebastian Michaelis!" Kaoru beamed, his eyes awestruck as he gazed up at the sinister visage of the russet eyed man.

"Oh!" Kaoru began, searching in the medium sized satchel that clung to his side, until he found the golden packaged box of divine Ulm chocolates, "We heard you had a certain liking for chocolate… so we brought this for you, all the way from Germany… We're big fans!" his attempt at redeeming some of his pride epically failed, obviously.

Sebastian's eyes went somewhat wide, as if touched, or thoroughly creeped out, "Hmm… I do have a rather puritanical fondness for chocolate… I eat it religiously, in very… precise, strictly measured portions." His eyes soon went squinted as if in indulged pleasure.

He took the box with a humble bow, nodding his head in thanks and that's when his eyes landed on Haruhi, surprise invading all of his features… she looked… so familiar.


	3. A Loyal Soul and a Supple Body

The hosts all sat in an elegantly arranged room, located behind the stage. Sebastian sat regally on a large, comfy looking, high-backed chair that resembled the likings of a throne. He was unable to take his crimson tinted eyes away from the immaculate figure of Haruhi Fujioka as she sucked the remaining creamy substance from the elegance of a spoon. There, in the pristine opaque covering that the small bowl provided, the creaminess swam with small globs of succulent gelatin.

"Oooo, I do love tapioca, if only it were red!" The man with red hair, also known as Grell Sutcliff, said while retrieving a small vile of red food-coloring that rested in his breast pocket.

"Yeah… this is really good!" Haruhi said excitedly as she swallowed the sticky cream.

Tamaki sat atop a red velvet sofa along with two misbehaving identical tarts. Not only was he upset about having to share his seat with two spawns of the devil, but he was rather jealous of the Sebastian character who got to sit in a throne that should obviously belong to him, the king. Not to mention that the singing raven-boy couldn't keep his brooding gaze off of the king's darling little girl. And even that red-haired monster had committed a wrong; he had bought Haruhi her first alcoholic drink and that was obviously supposed to be Tamaki's job! If anyone was going to get her drunk it had to be him!

"HARUHI IS MINE!" Tamaki rose from his seat, fist held in the air, indignation steaming from his nostrils.

All eyes turned to the golden haired adult, Haruhi having a most disapproving look on her face.

"We're not dating anymore senpai… besides that, you can't own me. I'm a person not a thing," Haruhi spoke in the most factual voice she could manage.

Tamaki had tears in his eyes, not tears that one would find serious; his face was contorted into a hideously pathetic expression, and little unheeded whimpers escaped up his throat ever so often.

Just then, the lovely red haired devil removed the stopper from his vile of red food coloring and, with much extravagance, proceeded to squeeze out a drop of the red stuff, sending the little liquid sprinkle falling right into the center of Haruhi's white delicacy.

"There! Perrrrrfect!" Grell purred next to Haruhi's ear. "Go on now, stir it up," he smiled, revealing his dazzlingly sharp teeth.

Haruhi looked down at the pudding then up at Grell who was still smiling viciously at her.

"Thank you… Senpai." Haruhi replied, not once protesting against the sudden addition of the red stuff to her pure, angelic bowl of pudding.

"Well," Hikaru suddenly jumped up from his place on the couch. "I think it's about time we head to that party," he was obviously bored with all the chitchat going on, his brother looked as if he would drift off into a little snooze at any moment, everY so often – because, that is obviously a specific time.

"Yeah," Kaoru stood slowly, his every movement resembling that of a cat just pulling itself from slumber; he stretched indolently and yawned languorously before finally blinking away the remains of sleepiness from his golden eyes. "When is that party starting again?" he asked of his brother.

"So often," Hikaru replied coolly.

"What party!?" Tamaki screeched in a most undignified manner.

"That's what you bought all the beer for, right Boss?" Both twins chimed in quizzically.

"OOOO, there's going to be a party? Does it involve lingerie, hmm?" Grell asked, pressing a finger delicately to his bottom lip in question.

"Of course!" Kaoru hollered, while sliding up to Haruhi's side, a rather suggestive look playing on his perfect features.

Haruhi didn't notice though, she was too captivated by the smooth textured redness gliding exquisitely and slushily from spoon, passed lips, to tongue, to throat. There was possibly nothing that could remove her from the state of enjoyment she was currently trapped in. So overwhelmed by the taste of the milky affluence before her, how could she possibly have the brain capacity to notice anything other than the textures and flavors invading her mouth?

"Oh! Might I join in the fun? I do love a good party," Grell winked.

While the hosts and their newly acquired feminine friend yakked on about the seemingly inappropriate party that was to happen soon, Sebastian sat on his throne, taking in all that went on, a completely blank and uninterested expression plastered on his face. He turned his red gaze to Haruhi and was once again blown away by the familiarity he saw there in her finely sculpted features. With her long, dark, hair and her softly proportioned face, the shortness of her stature, she looked just like a little… Robin? Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, wondering where he had heard such a strange phrase to describe one's appearance, but, for some reason, it made perfect sense, to him.

"Oh," Sebastian sighed in dismay, pressing his hand, gently, to his brow, as if to prevent an oncoming headache, "Lord Druitt…" He said, recalling the time of so often, so long ago, when the Viscount of Druitt kidnapped his beloved Master. All at once, a veil of depression clouded his perceptive gaze, his apathy multiplying twofold, and his usually so straight and strong shoulders slumping in a sigh of utmost defeat. His master, the one whom he only lived to serve – quite literally – threw him out, casting him aside, as if he were a useless pawn in a chess game, or the nasty card, with the little old lady surrounded by cats on it, in the insipid game of Old Maid.

Sebastian shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the dulling effect sentimentality seemed to have on him, his silky black hair swishing nicely, but his thoughts remained as they were. He sighed again, not bothering to attempt to vanquish this more human side of himself again. Over the years, spending so much useless time with more and more human acquaintances had taken quite a toll on his thinking patterns; he felt quite inadequate.

"What do you say, Bassy? Be my date!" Grell sidled up to his dear demonic friend, smiling and blushing like an idiot schoolgirl.

"Never," Sebastian replied offhandedly, it was nearly an automatic response nowadays.

"Oh, you're no fun… Where's my Undies?" Grell spun away from Sebastian in search of something a bit more willing to participate in his games.

"Do we really have to bring that buffoon with us!? Isn't this my party?" Tamaki bellowed at the two smirking felines in front of him.

"Well, Boss, it wouldn't really count as a party if you don't invite guests," Kaoru explained patiently.

"But I'm already allowing the two of you to come!" Tamaki was about to enter the grand world of hysterics, he just needed one more push.

"We live with you, we don't count…" Hikaru stood by his brother, fidgeting impatiently.

Suddenly, Grell appeared from the back of the room, carrying with him a large barrel full of sparkly crystals of salt, a head protruding from the white granules.

"Oho! This feels so nice!" the head protruding from the barrel spoke in a joyous tone, as if it really were having a wonderful time.

Everyone turned to gaze at the grey haired head in the barrel, a scar marring his porcelain face, stretching from one cheek to the other, his perfect nose a victim of some long past cruelty. The smile adorning his face, with remarkably vicious appearing cheer, stretched, nearly, from ear to ear, giving him a rather scathing aura, quite a contrast to his evidently blissful mood.

A hideously crazed chortle of a laugh tickled its way up the gray-haired-head's throat, exploding out his mouth in a tumble of wild and cracking clatters, making all the those gathered in the small room – excluding the grinning Grell and brooding Sebastian – jump in surprise then stare warily at the creature whom they had yet to meet.

"Mm," the creature hummed to itself as it began lapping up tongue-fulls of the sparkling grains. "I can feel all my juices leaving my body; I really should do this more often," the head spoke to itself in a demented voice, gurgles of laughter escaping through his parted lips when he had finished speaking.

"Grell, why is he in that barrel?" Sebastian asked, an unsaid 'again' ghosting his spoken words.

"It's not my fault, Bassy, he did this to himself," Grell pouted, but then smiled at the wide-eyed crowd of college students. "This is my Undies," he spoke merrily, his eyes turning fondly to the head in the barrel. "He can't come out right now though," Grell held his long-nailed fingers to his lips in amusement.

"Undies?" Haruhi recovered from the shock first, and now that her bowl of creamy goodness was sadly empty, she had little to divert her attention from the odd scene taking place before her.

"Yes, yes, it's got a nice little ring to it, yes?" the head asked, smiling creepily.

"Like underwear?" Kaoru asked, having trouble remembering the third band member's name.

Again that strange cackle erupted from the mouth of the head. "Oh no, I hate the dreadful things… I suppose its short for Undertaker," the head explained.

"Ohhhh," the twins harmonized, looking at each other in a confused way.

"Why can't he come out?" Honey asked from his perch on Mori's shoulders.

"Well… you see…" Grell began, his words halting, amusement leaking between his fingers in the form of misplaced giggles.

"I'm naked!" Undies bellowed, and, with a loud guffaw, effectively knocked himself and his barrel over, christening the floor with white sparkling shards of salt.

"Oh my," Grell stared at the mess the undertaker had made, then at the gleeful expression the undertaker had plastered on his pale face. "Bassy, clean it up," Grell ordered, and for a reason unbeknownst to the black clad Sebastian, he stood to obey.

To this, both Grell and the undertaker watched in shock.

…

The hosts and their newly acquired guests shot out of the limo, despite the space it provided they had all been quite cramped and were, perhaps, a bit too enthusiastic to be done with the short ride.

"I really love this red jacket," Grell said while stroking Kaoru's shoulder sensually, his eyes holding a gleaming form of creepy attraction.

"Uh… Thanks, I like yours too," Kaoru said, referring to Grell's fabulously red trench coat.

"Oh, aren't you just the sweetest thing… sweet as candy! Oh, I can hardly stand it!" Grell said while hugging himself, his body in a fit of endless squirms.

"Shall we go in?" Kyoya spoke calmly then headed for the apartment building's entrance, assuming that the buffoons behind him would be smart enough to follow. And, surprisingly, they were.

However, as they all headed to the double doors, a quiet, almost imperceptible sound was heard by two of the taller men standing at the back of the group. They both turned their dark heads toward the sound, listening intently and not caring that they were being left behind by the rest of the group.

"Did you hear that?" Sebastian inquired suspiciously of the dark eyed man beside him.

"Yeah," Mori replied succinctly.

"I believe it came from that alley, do you wish to continue on, Mast- uh, Mori," Sebastian asked, mentally berating himself for his near slip-of-the-delicate-tongue… as Grell would put it.

"Mm," Mori nodded in delicate-approval.

The two of them continued on, approaching the alley slowly, in a way that resembled a pair of hunting cats. So in sync were they that their elegantly long bodies moved in ways that seemed almost rehearsed, perfect in a sensually intimidating manner. Then they both disappeared into the darkness, like shadows, moving with animal like grace, their features bestial just before they entered the alley's artificial night.

They heard it again, the small and sweet plea of a lost soul. Sebastian instinctively turned toward the sound, his eyes glowing in the small light the moon provided, suddenly spotting the silhouette of a small, supple body, with paws, such soft paws… And he immediately stood up straight and smiled upon the tiny creature of ultimate perfection.

"Here, Kittykittykittykitty," Mori spoke softly from his crouch, a big gentle hand stretched forward in welcome to the small beast.

The cat quickly obliged to the wishes of the gentle giant, prancing up to the warm fingers that lovely stroked the charcoal colored fur of the small kitten. Mori smoothly lifted the kitten off the cold, dirt-ridden ground and brought the small helpless thing to his bosom, cradling it sweetly near his heart.

Sebastian allowed a wicked smile to curve up the corners of his delicately plush lips as he gazed fondly at the scene unfurling before him.

The kitten opened its eyes and looked toward the demon who stood before him, the moon glinting off its reflective sapphire eyes. Sebastian's smile disappeared in that instant, as the strikingly blue eyes continued their penetrating stare, causing Sebastian's mind to warble and churn with thoughts that brought a sharp pain to his spine.

"Sebastian! Mori! We're gonna play a game, hurry up!" The boyish voice of Haruhi chimed from the entrance of the building.

Mori looked over at Sebastian, whose face still shone with the phantom of betrayal, but the big man attributed that look to the fact that the little pet in his hands had come to him instead of the strangely alluring pale man.

"Here, you can hold it," Mori handed the ball of fluff to Sebastian in the most caring way he could manage.

Mori then smiled vaguely, beginning to walk down the alley, back towards the building's entrance where Haruhi remained.

Sebastian couldn't help but smirk in the giant's direction, immediately able to perceive the pure heart that inhabited Mori's being. A heart belonging to a very loyal and untainted soul, a soul Sebastian could take much interest in.


	4. 7 Minutes in Heaven

It was plunged in deep. Then brought forth from the frothy abyss, only to be plunged in again. Once it had resurfaced, shining with moisture, a skilled hand maneuvered its soft fingers around and then down the hot hardness of its long, slippery, tubular walls. A sudsy spume slipped down all sides, little foamy bubbles squirting between Haruhi's thin fingers, as she finished it off, setting it aside for later use.

"Allow me," a dark and alluring purr came from just behind the young, attentive maiden as talented fingers joined her in the warmth of the lathery pit.

Sebastian quickly mastered the tools at hand, washcloth and sudsy bubbles put to quick work against the dirtied cups.

"I don't mind finishing these up, Miss, you may go back to the game, I'll finish up that snack for you as well," the smile he bestowed upon Haruhi was that of eyes squinted in complete satisfaction; he was obviously quite at ease cleaning and cooking things.

"Oh, you don't have to do that… Senpai," She felt the formality necessary.

"Don't feel burdened, it will only take me a moment." Sebastian answered with a humble bow, his right hand placed over his left breast.

"Oh… ok." Haruhi answered shyly, feeling somewhat uncomfortable around the pale man. She was unable to discard the misgivings she felt towards the evil aura she detected around him, which seemed to make leaving easier for her, plus, she knew Tamaki would probably get suspicious and come looking for her…

"Haruhi, you're just in time, we're about to start!" Kaoru squealed excitedly.

"What exactly are we starting?" Haruhi asked taking a sit sat on her nice, fit bum-bum.

"7 minutes in heaven!" The red-haired diva cried, throwing his hands in the air, clearly excited for the upcoming events, but Haruhi was not at all impressed.

The brown eyed girl crossed her arms in defiance, "I'm not playing that," she stated simply, getting better at saying no to the twins over the years.

"Why not?" Kyoya asked suddenly from The Corner of The Room while he sat atop The Chair.

All eyes turned to the brooding specimen known as The Cool-Type, his bent index finger supporting his sharp chin, the other arm of the other hand wrapped around his waist as if he were an insecure teen, worried that maybe too much of his gut was sticking out. Which was absolutely ridiculous, because he was about as thin as paper, also as white.

"Kyoya?" Haruhi asked nervously, a single drop of sweat gliding elegantly from her temple to her cheek, until she swiped it away.

"I'm pretty sure you want to play," Kyoya finally replied, a sinister smirk taking up residence on his sharp face.

Normally Haruhi would have been able to say no, just as she had wished, but this was linked to a whole different matter. In fact, the reason for her even being able to attend a college in America was directly linked to that certain liability that involved her complete compliancy to the omniscient, four-eyed businessman.

"Haruhi! Don't ruin my party!"

All heads turned to Tamaki, surprise lighting in all eyes who knew him. How could Tamaki wish for his little girl to take part in such promiscuities? The twins immediately knew the obvious answer, and turned to each other, mirroring expressions of disdain adorning their faces.

Originally, none of the men – besides Grell, of course – would have wanted to play such a risqué game, however the possibility of, just maybe, getting to be in a dark room, alone, with Haruhi, was just too tempting to pass up.

"So… how do you play?" Tamaki asked in the most ditzy way one could imagine.

"Well," Grell began, seeming quite pleased to be the one explaining the regulations of such a game, "First, half the names must be tossed into a hat!" He pranced over to the coffee table, squatting down so he could peak beneath it. And behold, there was Undies, lolling in the cold position resembling that of a corpse in the confines of a coffin. "We can use Undies'!"

Undies chortled, handing over his hat in the most submissive manner, then going back to his stiff deportment beneath the pristinely crafted mahogany coffee table.

Grell hurriedly wrote down half of the names, in the best calligraphy he could manage, then flippantly tossed them into the deep depths of Undies' glorious, black top-hat.

"Then you mix them all together!" He squealed while he tousled the names with his elegant fingers, as if the names were leaves of lettuce in a salad. "Now, all of you," Grell pointed out several people in the room, including: Hikaru, Mori, Tamaki, Sebastian – who had just then entered the room – and Kyoya. "Get to pick a special someone from this special hat! HAHAHA!" He exclaimed in the most flamboyant tone, dramatically displaying the hat for all to behold, his other, unoccupied hand, placed dexterously to his lovely brow, winking to the crowd gathered around him.

The twins glanced at each other in a way that could only be describe as conspiratorial, just before Hikaru stood to be the first to pick a name. He had a twenty percent chance to get the girl, a twenty percent chance to get his twin and save Haruhi from an otherwise terrible fate, a forty percent chance to win; those odds would have to be good enough. He approached the hat, his Adam's apple bobbing once in nervousness. Not only was he worried that he wouldn't draw Haruhi or his brother, for Haruhi's sake, but also for himself, he had no wish to enter a dark place with someone such as the red bass player, who obviously wished he were a woman.

His fingers dipped into the dark place; his digits exploring, investigating, swirling gently, searching for the perfect position to claim the ultimate prize. As his hand went down further, a drop of sweat gliding down the length of his cheek, Grell squealed in blissful excitement, causing the hat to jerk just a smidgen.

"Ah!" Hikaru involuntarily gasped, as Grell shoved the lifeless thing against him.

"Oh yes! Grab it! Faster!" Grell pleaded, his arm becoming tired.

Hikaru obliged him, gripping tightly, and pulling…

The piece of paper read: Kaoru.

Hikaru let out a sigh of utmost relief, although a look a sadness played on his features, seeing as how he would not get a chance with his beloved Haruhi. "Kaoru," Hikaru called, waving towards the closet.

"Alrighty then," Kaoru stood, the beginnings of a devilish grin worming its way across the soft expanse of his lips.

"Oh pooh… and I was so hoping for it to be me," Grell announced annoyingly, his arms crossed, "Oh well, this gives me some time to put on my lingerie," he laughed delightedly, skipping off to wherever it was he was going.

The twins sauntered off to the dark room they had prepared themselves, for just this type of excursion. They shut the door, blocking the rest of the party from their soon to be intimate game.

Everyone sat at their places, but for no more than a moment, all running to the closed off entrance, all placing their ears as close to the portal as they were able. Haruhi however had received her long awaited comestible, Sebastian bowing in respect. His eyes gazed at the girl as she ate her treat, her process of consumption so different from that of the way his master ate.

That's when it all began, the twins' moment of passion, causing all the other host's faces to blush in disbelief as they heard a body being bumped harshly against the door.

"Ow! Not so hard, Hikaru!" they heard Kaoru whisper, a bit breathlessly.

"It's not my fault, you said to go all-out," Hikaru growled affectionately, another bang against the door sending all gathered a step back.

"Oh God, surely they're not…" Tamaki said in hysteria.

"Thinking about…" Kyoya continued.

"…DOING IT!?" Grell burst forth from the hall, his attire red and quite nearly see-through. "Are they doing it yet?" he asked, trembling with eagerness.

All the hosts turned their heads to the sensually clad man, but their attention was soon reclaimed by the happenings behind the door. They heard a series of soft grunts, accompanied by a few hushed groans.

"Come on Kaoru, that's it!" Hikaru encouraged his beloved brother.

"I'm so hot! I don't think I can go on any longer!" Kaoru cried out in a heated moan.

"I told you to lose the shirt already," Hikaru scolded dominantly.

"Ok, ok…ok," Kaoru breathed, giving in to his brother's wishes.

"That's it," Hikaru enthused quietly.

"That feels much better," Kaoru mewled in satisfaction.

All eyes were wide on the other side of the door. Astonishment clearly displayed on all their features. Many of them gulping in confused surprise.

"So… whose timing them?" Grell asked presently.

"Timing?" Tamaki managed to squeak.

"Oh, forget it!" Grell squealed and pressed the entirety of his body against the door. "Just let them finish!" he gushed.

"Ok… your turn…" Kaoru breathed, exhausted.

"Good, I was getting impatient," Hikaru spoke maliciously.

Meanwhile, behind The Door, Hikaru positioned himself above, his hands set firmly against the ground, his body taught and ready to begin.

"Hurry up and do it!" Kaoru demanded, his voice sounding with mockery; a dare had been made.

"Ok, fine," Hikaru spoke in a hushed whisper, the evilness of a smile could be heard in his voice. "But I'm gonna beat you so bad…"

And he began. His muscles flexing with every plunge, his breathing a steady rhythm at first, though becoming more labored and uneven as he continued, reaching his peak and losing his stamina; but he was determined.

"Jesus!" Kaoru stuttered in disbelief.

"Oh… Yeah… Ah, I burn!" Hikaru exclaimed in a rough roar.

"That's gonna hurt in the morning," Kaoru choked out distraughtly.

Finally, Hikaru collapsed, breathing heavily as he allowed his arms to relax at his sides.

"Ah… A new record," Kaoru said matter-of-factly. "How many was that?" he asked, glancing at his stopwatch.

"Eighty… give or take," Hikaru spoke, sitting up and reaching for his shirt.

"I think our time is about up, should we go?" Kaoru asked, retrieving his own discarded shirt.

"Sure, that probably scared them enough," Hikaru stood, trying to figure out if his shirt was inside out or not.

Just as Hikaru began to open the door, Kaoru looked down at himself, being able to see with the small sliver of light just entering, "Oh… my flies undone." He said, zipping his pants just as they exited, little did he know that this only made the situation that much more believable.

They walked into The Living Room to a crowd of blushing, shocked hosts and a single hyperventilating tranny.

"Hey," Kaoru smiled, a bit disheveled.

"So… whose next?" Hikaru inquired daringly; a sly grin decorating his flushed face.

Everyone, except Grell took a step back in fear.

"OOH! ME! Pick me!" Grell pleaded, his hands waving frantically in the air.

Tamaki cleared his throat, "I think that's enough for one night… time for the alcoholic beverages!"

"I'll prepare them, Sir, I make a mean Margarita," Sebastian said, while taking a humble bow.

Mori stared blankly, wondering where Sebastian was keeping that cat and immediately went in search of it.


	5. Intoxication of Banana

What woke her wasn't the chill, the light, or the sounds, it was the smell. The aromatic whiff of sizzling bacon, the hint of sweet, warm syrup and the sulfuric tint of eggs. The promise of a deliciously delightful breakfast, American style, is what drew her from her drink induced slumber.

She opened her eyes slowly. They felt heavier than usual, and when she tried to sit up her head throbbed with the beating of her pulse, so she surrendered to gravity and lay back down, allowing her eyes to close against the dim rays of gray light that managed to sneak around the curtains hanging in front of the big sliding, glass doors. That's when she realized she wasn't in her own bed, or any bed for that matter.

Suddenly, there was a shifting. An arm was carelessly flung across her waist and a face was shoved against her neck, the breath flowing from its lips a warm caress of putrid air, making Haruhi wrinkle her nose in revulsion and try aimlessly to turn away. But the arm, so lifeless seeming a moment ago, clutched at her tightly, moving her body closer to its own, a soft whine of protest escaping its lips.

Her eyes flew open, and she began wiggling frantically, trying to loosen the arm' s iron grasp. She turned her face away from the whining breath, only to find another face on her opposite side. Tamaki's eyes were, blessedly, closed and she breathed a sigh of relief to find that his body was nowhere near her own, although his face was a bit too close for comfort. She turned her eyes back to the ceiling, lying still so that the arm wouldn't crush her, and began groping with her left hand for something that might save her… exactly what that was, she had no idea.

But oh, the innocence of that hand was soon violated by the sudden, soft, contact of warm, bare skin. Her finger only brushed the skin, a light touch as imperceptible as butterfly wings, but it was enough. The body the skin belonged to responded eagerly, rolling toward her and taking residence against her other side, its own face making a pillow of her lower abdomen, its fingers finding purchase on her hip, its arm a blanket on her thighs. And he was warm. So was the hand wrapped around her waist, she realized, making her assess her situation in a different light.

So… Am I naked? She couldn't help but wonder, in a frantic, panicked sort of way.

She lifted her head, just enough to take inventory of her various pieces and parts. Then allowed her head to fall back in a sigh of utmost relief, regretting it as soon as her head met with floor, resulting in a fit of senseless pounding; she was mostly decent though, mostly. But, for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she was dressed the way she was, not in her own bed and surrounded by sleeping men on their living room floor.

"Mmmm…" the one against her neck moaned softly. "Oh Bassy…"

Haruhi's eyes widened at the realization that the one clinging to her was, none other than, Grell.

"It will only hurt for… a moment," he breathed against her neck, sending nasty little shivers down her spine, making both Grell and the one gripping her hip hold on tighter.

She'd had enough. With a scream befitting that of a banshee, she somehow managed to escape the tight grips of both sleeping men and run from the room, but eventually, the thing that stopped her mad dash was the throbbing of her head, and the sudden stream of chunky bile traveling up her elegant throat… she really did have a nice throat, like a ballerina's or a swan's! The skin so perfectly white and silky… satin skin! And so, the lumpy concoction of up-chuck (up-cock, in Rainwater's vocabulary) spewed between her supple yet firm, thoroughly moist, lips, all over the bathroom floor.

The sudden release of poisoned fluids seemed to help get rid of at least some of her headache, allowing her to have only one clear thought: What's going on in the kitchen? So to the kitchen she went! It was a very arduous and tasking journey. A journey that took much work. A journey that caused her many troublesome pains. A journey it was! And a journey it would be! (later, of course, when she would have to pee OH! A rhyme!)

And there, In The Kitchen, stood two, tall dark haired men. One sporting a domestic black apron, the other wearing something so frilly and pink it took Haruhi more than a few moments to process that it was really Mori. Haruhi took in the succulent aroma that the sizzling bacon and the puffy pancakes put off, and drank in the sight of Sebastian, his black apron forming nicely to his clearly toned body. With the overwhelming smell and the delicious sight she beheld it was far too much for her still-half-wasted-self/brain/body/schnitzel/mind to take in at once and so, with that note, she fell to the ground, the last thing in her vision being that of glistening, concerned… red eyes. And Mori, over there → still cooking, being much too theatrical with his mixing of the eggs.

THE PREVIOUS NIGHT!

Tamaki sat atop the posh sofa, one leg sprawled across the softness of said-sofa cushions, while the other lazes about on the floor. His button-down shirt, was undone to the fifth button, baring, for all to see, his hairless chest, simply because that's how it was; he was quite bald, you see, aside from the hair that rested atop his glorious head; up there it was quite thick.

"It is time to commence!" Tamaki declared, pointing a finger at all who gazed upon his hairless chest, this included…. Everyone, especially Grell, who found himself/herself gawking femininely.

"BRING OUT THE ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES!"

And with that came Sebastian, a tray held in his sturdy fingers, countless bottles of beer and wine fashioned into a sturdy pyramid. And then, it commenced, the drinking began, everyone took a gulp… Except Haruhi.

"Haruhi! Why aren't you drinking!?" Honey-senpai inquired quite noisily as he continued his gluttonous consumption of alcoholic beverages.

"I don't usually… drink… alcohol, Honey-senpai," Haruhi haltingly replied.

"Then what do you do with them Haruhi?" Tamaki inquired innocently, one lanky, yet awkward finger placed elegantly to his chin.

Haruhi stared blankly at the still enquiring blond bimbo, Tamaki's lips puckered ever so slightly in, what he thought to be, a very arousing pose.

"I don't do anything with it, Senpai," Haruhi replied saucily.

"Oh you little minx!" Grell stated audaciously, "You're such a tease!" he continued, touching Tamaki's hairless chest, with a single dainty, lacquered finger, and it was then that Haruhi realized, Grell was not referring to her. "Don't mind that flat-chested little imp, we'll think of something more fun to do!" Grell stated, pulling Tamaki, rather forcefully, away.

"DON'T HARRASS MY LITTLE GIRL!" Was Tamaki's final cry before he was dragged away to the darkness under The Table.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was presenting himself to Haruhi, in the most tasteful way, holding an attractive plate of Banana Foster in his sturdy hands.

"I have for, this evening, a delectable helping of Banana Foster, made with freshly picked bananas, all the way from Africa," Haruhi failed to believe that the small telling of the bananas was most definitely true, but how could she when she was unaware of the fact that Sebastian could travel to any part of the world within seconds without batting an eyelash? "A dash of the finest cinnamon, a worthy amount of brown sugar and smooth dark rum," Sebastian continued to explain the refined delicacies of this delicacy, and little did Haruhi know, that he didn't only fry the bananas in the rum like she had expected, like how you were supposed to, but he also added some atop it, all by itself, without alteration.

"Really? What recipe did you use?" Undies asked from the floor, a full pitcher of cooled rum held in his spindly, black-painter fingers.

"This one, of course!" Sebastian said enthusiastically, his hand swishing through the air to present Undies with the lovely, expertly filigreed piece of paper.

BANANAS FOSTER

¼ cup (½ stick) butter

1 cup brown sugar

½ teaspoon cinnamon

¼ cup banana liqueur

4 bananas, cut in half  
lengthwise, then halved

¼ cup dark rum

4 scoops vanilla ice cream

Combine the butter, sugar, and cinnamon in a flambé pan or skillet. Place the pan over low heat either on an alcohol burner or on top of the stove, and cook, stirring, until the sugar dissolves. Stir in the banana liqueur, then place the bananas in the pan. When the banana sections soften and begin to brown, carefully add the rum. Continue to cook the sauce until the rum is hot, then tip the pan slightly to ignite the rum. When the flames subside, lift the bananas out of the pan and place four pieces over each portion of ice cream. Generously spoon warm sauce over the top of the ice cream and serve immediately

"Oh, thank you!" Undies promptly took the piece paper, and without even glancing at it, stuffed it into his waiting gob.

Sebastian frowned at the happy smile now adorning the undertaker's face, "Well then… I hope it's to your liking," Sebastian turned to Haruhi, a smile curving up his face as he watched her consumption of the creamy, liquor tainted comestible, brushing off his shoulder in the direction of the affronting Undertaker.

"Yesh, ish, reealy gu," Haruhi replied sloppily, a banana squishing her words, and a bit of yellow cream squeezed past the corner of her tight lips.

"Allow me," Sebastian said, using his sturdy finger to wipe away the sticky cream from her pink skin.

"Oh, that's good," Haruhi squirmed, swallowing happily.

"Yes, I'm very skilled when it comes to such activities as this," Sebastian replied, plopping down beside her.

Haruhi's eyes were already becoming glazed by the effects of the strong rum on her tongue; oh what a rhyme! She really wasn't a drinker, but she was really enjoying the bananas drowning in rum. She shoveled more and more of the…

And, in the darkness under The Table, Tamaki was in the middle of concocting something outrageous with Grell. They were hunkered down, conspiring in intimate whispers that had Grell on the verge of combusting, their faces inches apart, hovering there, timid as butterflies. But Grell, he was anything but a butterfly, more like an aggressively greedy hummingbird, hovering!

Just waiting to attack. Anticipating the moment when he would finally be brave enough to slither his tongue down into this waiting flower.

"So, we hand her the bottle, but how do we get her to drink it? That's still an issue," Tamaki was as deep in thought as a drinking person could be.

"No! It's the perfect plan! We hand her the bottle, and then she'll drink it!" Grell squawked in annoyance.

"We hand her that bottle?" Tamaki asked stupidly.

"Yes, we hand her a bottle, she'ss…" Grell paused… it was a rather long pause… he paused for a very long time. "She'll be too dazed to figure it out," he finally finished.

"Figure what out?" Tamaki asked, probably because of the long pause.

"Whatever it is we're doing," Grell quickly whispered, then motioned for the blond boy to lean in a bit closer, "Afterwards, you must kiss me!" Grell shrieked throwing his arms around the blond boy's neck pulling him quite close. oh yes quiteclose!...

"AH! UNHAND ME, THE KING, YOU HEATHEN!" Tamaki yelled, struggling aimlessly as Grell puckered and began making kissy-noises, getting a bit sloppy and allowing some spit to escape with the obnoxious noises.

"Hey Boss, let's do – GAH!" Hikaru began, but was quickly snatched by the red-headed-lingerie-dressed lady who was extremely determined, apparently, to kiss… something.

"Oh! I can definitely take two at once!" Grell sing-songed and promptly planted a big wet one on Tamaki's… nose. "Dammit, I missed!" he whined.

"Hikaru! What's going – GAH!" Kaoru squeaked when he caught sight of the happenings beneath the table.

"Why don't I have more hands?!" Grell cackled, and lunged at the hunkered down twin, pulling the two men in his arms with him, landing, directly, on top of Kaoru. "Oh yes! My aim never fails!"

"AHHHH!" Kaoru squealed in agony.

"Oh yes, your scream turns me quite on! It sends my blood coursing! Directly to my –" Grell, blessedly, was cut off. :}

"Oh my God! What's that?! It's poking my leg! Oh MY GOD!" Kaoru screamed hysterically, knowing, without being told, exactly where Grell's blood was coursing to. "Hikaru! SAVE ME!" Kaoru pleaded of his, at present, squished brother.

"MMMMMRFFF," Hikaru promptly grunted from the confines of Grell's malodorous armpit, struggling, without success, to free himself.

"Don't worry! I'll be quite gentle with you, my little strawberry shortcake," Grell crooned.

Kaoru squeaked, his eyes wide, his mouth parted ever so slightly, which was a huge mistake on his part, because, in only a moment, between those lovely lips a tongue was shoved through.

"MMMHAA!" Kaoru gurgled in protest.

"Not quite the flower I was aiming for, but you know," Grell shrugged, pulling away for a moment, but soon returning to the delicate structure that was Kaoru's mouth. "Away from me you wriggling fiends!" Grell bellowed at the boy-toys squirming in his armpits, shoving them, quite forcefully, away from himself and the trapped specimen beneath him.

Kaoru flailed his arms, but his legs were too trapped to be of any use.

"KAORU!" Hikaru yelled, his voice carrying with the force of a battle cry, he righted himself quickly and charged, swooping in to save his younger brother.

With a quick and forceful kick to Grell's abdomen Kaoru was able to escape, his brother pulling him into his arms.

"Hikaru! I thought that was it… I thought I was gonna be raped!"

"Oh… com'n now… that wasn't… really necessary…. Was it? You… fiend!" Grell said, twitching on the ground like some mangy dog.

"Surely, you're not dumb enough to think you really would have gotten away with that, reaper… I wouldn't have allowed it," Sebastian growled from over where Haruhi was sitting, Haruhi's body swaying ever so slightly, a drop of drool tracing its way to her chin.

"Hehe… Ma," Haruhi let out, pointing to herself, using her Japanese to explain the fact that she is female (Ma=female), then erupted in a fit of giggles.

"Oh, goodness, if I had known she'd been such a lightweight, I wouldn't have used so much," Sebastian said annoyed, placing his sturdy fingers to his brow, his eyes closing elegantly.

"What! You gave her… SOMETHING!?" Tamaki inquired astounded.

"Yes, Bananas Foster, with extra rum. You seemed so set on making her drunk I decided to help out a bit, but it seems that she's already gone under," Sebastian frowned, but only slightly.

"Wait," Kaoru suddenly came out of his hysterical state, wiping his eyes quickly and shoving gently out of Hikaru's grasp. "Haruhi's…. Drunk?"

"Haru-chan is drunk?!"

"Haruhi's DRUNK?!" All the hosts, and Grell, harmonized.

All eyes turned to Haruhi who was currently situated comfortably on the couch, swaying from side to side, a very easygoing and oblivious expression adorning to her face, repeatedly stating: "Ma… Ma… Ma…"

Every boy in the room suddenly began grinning, their eyes igniting with mischief.

And at about this point, Mori returned to the living room, carrying with him the small, sleeping form of a kitten, "Hmm," Mori inquired, nodding once, "No place for kitty," then went on his way, to better play with the small ball of fluff… but not without a backward glance, wariness clouding his black eyes, but only for the briefest moment, nearly impossible to catch. But Sebastian saw.


	6. A Lithe, Supple Body

(STILL 'THE PREVIOUS NIGHT')

The kitten, so soft and alive, was very much enjoying the cream dripping from Mori's outstretched member. One small drip at a time, the kitten lapped it up greedily and attentively, making sure to leave no traces behind. When the dripping stopped, the kitten blinked its eyes to awareness and mewled quietly in protest.

"Yeah," Mori sighed in satisfaction, a small smile just barely touching his lips. "Here," Mori dipped his digit back into the cream and offered it to the waiting kitten.

"You know, a more efficient way of proceeding would be to simply –" Sebastian leaned over the crouching big man and took the bowl of cream from his hand. "Let the little beast have the bowl… Instead of dipping your finger in it," Sebastian smiled maliciously, his eyes strikingly red in the lighting, and almost seeming to glow… with what, exactly, Mori didn't know… perhaps, gentleness? Mori supposed this Sebastian character truly and honestly, from the bottom of his warm heart, cared for the kitten.

"Right," Mori spoke, looking back down at the kitty; it was very happy at the moment, complete contentment radiating from its little body.

"Would you like for me to get you anything, Sir?" Sebastian asked formally, his right hand placed delicately over his left breast a small bow bending his lanky, lean, physique.

"Hmm?" Mori asked bewildered, wondering why this lovely man felt so compelled to serve him… and call him by such a name as 'sir', his name was Mori, not 'sir', you see. "I'm Mori," the big man felt compelled to say, as if the little matter of his name would lift Sebastian from the bog he seemed stuck in… The bog of confusion. The bog of helpfulness; that was Mori's bog. The bog of formality. The bog of masculine attractivity! The bog of delicacywithahintofmuskytant alysis, akin to some rare form of paralysis that caused someone to stare way to long, quizzically long, at another's face, examining pores and contours, highlights and darks, the way the light caught on hairs and made eyes glassy with shine, the way shadows contrived to distill character and outline form… The sort of paralysis Mori seemed to acquire when thinking way too hard; this was Mori's bog.

(PPRainwater is texting. And therefore not participating in the writing of this.)

(Oh shut up monkeypoo, you're hogging the keyboard and keep pissing at me! So I decided to allow you to ponder in your own little world and write as you please… seeing as how you're so pissy… but you did drink quite a bit of coffee… Perhaps you should go piss in a toilet like a normal person )

(I do enjoy your use of the word piss. It's so nice to hear that you're now paying attention to me instead of Mr. Kitty…-.- Why are you texting him anyway? The comment he left on the last chapter was… terrible, it made no sense! WHAT!? You want to leave!? You fart! Stuff a cork up your hole!)

(…. Schlampe…)

(…And now… She's taking a shit… Making shit cakes. Little shortbreads. In a happy toilet. And not paying any attention to this nonsense we should be writing. Her ass is more productive than her brain!)

So… Mori's bog. He couldn't stop staring.

And so. As the moments ticked by, Mori continued to stare, and Sebastian… began to stare as well. The business of staring was quite heavy in the air, intoxicatingly so. And with the pull of their stares came the pull of gravity, as they slowly gravitated towards each other.

"Nya~" the cat voiced, the tiny warble it uttered drew Mori from his bog, drawing him back to the present, the present where the bowl was now emptied of milk.

Then the cat pooped. It was sudden. Very sudden. Oh, so sudden. They didn't even have time react it was so sudden! ALL OF THE SUDDEN, the little kitty just hunched up, arching its back in a painful way, and… Squirt. There it was. Right on Sebastian's shoe.

"Well, that was rather sudden," Sebastian spoke nonchalantly, standing up straight, perhaps to get his nose farther away from the repugnant smell of the little bit of shit on his, otherwise unblemished, shoe.

As Sebastian left the room, most likely, to cleanse the filth from his, no longer shining, dress shoes there were other happenings happening in the other compartment of a room, furnished with babo-yeobo's.

"Ooh Godt, thas goot." Said a rather flushed – not to mention intoxicated – Tamaki.

"Oooooh.,.. Mur lurve… fur ur, ish sur, birg!" The attractive, red-haired transvestite gushed into the mouth of an upturned, empty wine bottle.

"KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE!" Tamaki screeched flailing his arms theatrically in the air, his eyes squinted in pure bliss, after the hearing of Grell's words. Why Grell's words were so pleasing to the blond bimbo was a complete mystery… even to Tamaki himself.

Then there was Haruhi, who was still situated on the couch, slurping at her own spit that seemed to have a mind of its own, slipping between her lips at times when she was least expecting it. The twins were watching her, intently. Their cat-like eyes glued to her innate form, empty bottles of spice rum and Gatorade littering their recliner and the floor surrounding the recliner.

"Kaoru, should we do something? Like, random? What should we dooooo?" Hikaru whined into his brother's ear, tossing aside a Gatorade bottle as he did so.

"Yeah, sure, random, and I shit rainbows when I cough," Kaoru said indifferently, hair splayed over his amber eyes, his posture poor against the leather recliner.

"Kaoruuu! Don't be mean! Du bist meine Lieblingsfarbe!" Hikaru whined once again, his voice morphing into more of a loving croon than that of a childish moan, as he wrapped his arms around his brother's waist, which was harder to do than he had thought, considering his brother's posture at the moment.

"HIKARU! YOU'RE NOT GERMAN!" Tamaki exclaimed passionately, both hands clenched, pressed firmly to his scrawny chest.

"Get off me!" Kaoru shoved at Hikaru's arms until his twin was forced to let go, then stood unsteadily, stumbling a few steps away to collapse onto a strategically placed futon, right next to Kyoya Ootori.

Kyoya looked toward the orange haired boy, his eyes igniting under his glasses with a look of death.

"OOOOO! That look! Stunning!" Grell squirmed uncontrollably, saliva flying from his fangs as his head moved with his thrashing body.

"How dare you," Kyoya growled, adjusting his glasses with a very long, stiff finger.

"O-oh… it's Hikaru's fault!" The drowsy boy exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at his languid brother.

"That's no excuse, you punk," Kyoya explained devilishly, his eyes glaring with such ferocity, with such malice it about made the already trembling boy, piss himself silly.

"I-I-I-I-I-I'll move then!" he said in a fit of terror, trying to get away before his demon-like friend devoured him with that deathly gaze.

"I don't think so," Kyoya whispered in a breathy, crafty way, resembling that of a snake, waiting, very impatiently, to strike. His glasses caught the light, the brightness blasting into Kaoru's eyes, making the twin believe that this must be the end! He suddenly felt quite horrible for leaving Hikaru so abruptly, his guilt washing over him in waves of unpleasantness.

"I will enjoy this…" Kyoya breathed excitedly, his lips close to Kaoru's ear, his fingers just barely brushing against the soft skin of Kaoru's cheek, soft as feathers.

Kaoru could do absolutely nothing. His brain was excessively diluted, polluted really, with his vast consumption of rum and Gatorade, and for the life of him he couldn't figure any conceivable way out of this morbid situation.

"My goodness… that's quite a display," all heads in the room, turned towards a rather succulent sounding voice, a voice coated with honey, spilling from the lips of a heaven sent angel. His hair was like long stands of glistening silver, though obscured by the obscenity of a long top hat, which he soon removed, to bare for all to see, his porcelain face. The scar marring that celestial skin was even more prominent, and one could only imagine that an extremely jealous soul could inflict such a terrible thing upon the skin of such a gorgeous specimen. And, like his hat, his clothes soon followed after to the carpeted ground, where they crinkled in disdain at having to leave the body of such a scrumptious man. The only cloth that remained on this radiant being was that of black, clinging Hanes. His torso was smooth and obviously fit, perfectly chiseled lines delved into the beautiful skin of his abdomen. And even though he stood before all in only his undies, it didn't seem so strange a thing to everyone looking on, it seemed almost a natural thing for this angelic being to wear less than what was considered normal.

Then he opened his eyes.

Topaz gold infused with Peridot. Long, elegantly shaped eyes. The intensity of the gaze as powerful as a hunting lioness, and yet, within that power was the hinting of secrets, promising whispers of unknown tales. His smile was long, suggestively curved, the commissures of his lips completed that sensual line by delving softly into the contours of his cheeks.

"You may continue," He said, his voice seeming far off, like he had remained in heaven, his voice echoing down to them from the soft, fluffy bed of clouds, but his eyes watching them told everyone that he was, in fact, with them, right there in that inadequate room. "I don't mind watching where this leads," his smile grew, his voice drifted to the ears like a soft, gentle, smoky sigh, and the lie dissipated, revealing, with the growth of that smile, the soul-eater for which he was. The Undertaker had risen from beneath The Table, with a vengeance.

The awestruck looks of the boys soon flew away, just as the man's angel-like innocence had, all of their faces soon being molded into that of scared children.

"Oh please… don't mind me," The undertaker hissed in the most sensual of ways, his tongue swiping over his top lip hungrily, taking a few steps forward closing in on his frozen prey, reaching out a black clawed hand, his nails grazing the flesh of Kyoya's exposed neck, making Kyoya shiver in a most satisfying way.

"OH UNDIES! Ignore those human brutes and just come to meeeeee~." Grell bellowed excitedly, his cheeks flushed in excitement as he pounced towards his new target of interest.

"Heaven sakes, Grell, I don't have time for your repugnant, fan-girl obsessions; I'm much more interested in…" He looked back toward the couple situated on the futon, their eyes questioning as he stared at their figures in a longing manner, "These enticingly frail humans."

A moment passed where no one moved. Then a certain intoxicated female finally pulled herself out of her drooling stupor. Haruhi opened her big brown eyes, and they filled with the glorious image of the Undertaker's backside. A firm buttocks clothed by thin, black material, and in a moment of complete brainless-ness, she really wanted to squeeze that perky ass. Her eyes traveled up, taking in more of the luscious figure, admiring the curvature of his strong back, a deep crevasse accentuating the straight line of his spine.

She stood. Drawn by the inexplicable pull of that ivory skin, that beauty that seemed to pull at her in all the right places. A puppet with invisible thread, pulled by its master toward that man; his beauty akin to that of a statue crafted from marble by the hands of God, the details chiseled to utmost perfection.

She reached forth a hand, her fingers brushing the sides of his magnanimous torso, just dusting the ridges of ribs blanketed by knotted muscles, his skin cool against her heated touch. Her hands slowly found their way around his waist, her fingers continuing their warm dance over his skin. And he just stood there, as if in a trance, unaccustomed to touch such as this, so soft and sweet, her fingers seeming naïve to the actions that they'd committed.

The Undertaker, although wanting to respond, stood there, dazed. His lips were parted in awe, his hair falling over his features, a veil drawn over his eyes, as if shielding them from the rest of the world, wanting to experience this in privacy, away from all prying eyes as he felt Haruhi's cheek fall to rest on the muscled plane between his shoulder blades.

He turned his head, the hair whispering away from his eyes. His keen gaze now fraught with confusion. The girl's cheek, was warm, a soothing presence to his wrinkly, ancient, deteriorating heart, seeming to make it beat for the first time in eons. What was this sensation he felt deep inside his chest? It was something he had never felt before, something foreign, otherworldly. A Grinch to affection, he was.

He blinked then, causing him to stumble from his afore mentioned trance, the bog that sent him questioning his sexual orientation. He thought he was only interested in the dead, bodies no longer living, cold, lifeless, white, decaying things, but here he stood, a warm, living thing pressed against him. This girl might have been the first body he had not wished were dead, that he didn't want to stuff into a box under the ground. He enjoyed the warm touch, her life seeming to seep into his pores, into his very being, his soul even… even though he probably didn't have one, because he's a reaper… a soul eater sort of person thing. Yes.

He didn't have any idea what to do. Should he push the girl away? No, obviously, he should take advantage of this moment, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Haruhi?" Hikaru was the first to break the silence, his small question barely an audible whisper, but in that pall of silence, it seemed to jolt everyone to their – although idiotic – senses.

"The alcohol!" Grell screamed from his awkward position on the floor… how he had gotten there, nobody really knew, not like anyone really cared… even if he was decked out in skanky lingerie. Truth be told, none of the boys were really that interested, or even curious, seeing as how, under the silky red cloth, they all had the same junk. "Oooh! The alcohol!"

And as everyone was distracted by the wailing bloody mess on the floor, Undertaker somehow managed to swoop Haruhi into his [insert adjective here] arms, and take off down the hall!

"HARUHI!" and when she didn't respond. "DON'T YOU IGNORE DADDY!" Tamaki sprung up from his own position on the floor… and how he had gotten there, no one knew either… and dashed, as best he could, toward the hall. Which he completely missed, ramming straight into the wall.

Sebastian and Mori sat in the other room together, the cat asleep on the table between them. They stared at each other and Mori couldn't help but feel that Sebastian, with his striking red eyes, was staring into his very soul. He thought it was strange, that someone he hadn't known for very long could look at him with such understanding.

"What do you want Mori?" Sebastian asked, his eyes flashing with a quick magenta shine, as he glanced up at Mori, then back to the cat.

Mori looked at the man in front of him. As if seeing him for the first time. The gentle giant's steady gaze studied Sebastian intensely, searching for something: What made this man so different from every other person he had met? And what made him so curious, curious enough to want to know Mori's desires? Was it safe to tell him?

A few months earlier, a boat off the English Bay, out a bit farther than what was normal for this season, had begun reeling in their nets. The loot heavier than usual. All became excited, hoping for a huge haul, but everything was a bit out of the ordinary today, and although the haul was quite large, it wasn't the fish they had been hoping for.

A large, strange piece of, what looked like, intertwined teal coral rested next to the few slimy, flopping fish they had managed to catch. As they inspected the alien object, unbeknownst to them, they were being watched by someone to whom the object was not so alien. A black cat watched as the fishermen touched and probed at the strange treasure, the cat's blue eyes gleaming as he listened to them talk about returning to London right away. The cat knew, however, that they would not be returning at all.


	7. Oh! My Goddess

(STILL THE PREVIOUS NIGHT!)

The banging was loud. Really loud. So loud it was hurting their ears, causing the girl to moan in pain, a bit. But just a bit.

"Does it hurt?" Undies asked gently, the banging ceasing, but for only a moment.

"A little," Haruhi replied, blushing as the Undertaker lightly brushed her cheek, his finger rubbing against it in an endearing way.

The banging continued. Just as roughly as before, ferociously loud and sadistic.

"Ow stop! Please stop!" Haruhi cried in agony, her cries barely audible with all the noise.

"I don't think I can stop it," the Undertaker whimpered in utmost defeat.

And so, the banging continued on. And on. And on, and on, and on. Bang, bang… Bang. Then, a final, really big, BANG. And with that, it all came in, the surrounding walls taking most of the damage as the entrance pretty much exploded with the force of that final bang.

They were all piled up on top of each other. Honey's face on Tamaki's bum and the twins entangled so terribly they weren't sure where which hand or other appendage belonged to who.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY LITTLE GIRL!?" Tamaki screamed from his place on the floor, looking at Haruhi and the Undertaker.

The Undertaker sat, his bum-bum placed firmly in the confinements of a chair, his black Hanes still the only clothes he wore at present, besides the Haruhi seated in his lap. Their faces the picture of horrified surprise, both pairs of hands were placed over Haruhi's ears.

"Tama-chan…" Honey groaned from the direction of Tamaki's butt. "Did you fart?"

Tamaki's face was priceless at that moment, turning a bright shade of red transitioning into purple.

"No! I'm the king! Kings don't… pass gas," Tamaki said, with utmost mortification.

(Lips like sugarrrrr! Sugar kisseeeeeehs!... Noona neomu yeppeo… Ring ding dong, ring ding dong, ring diggi diggi diggi diggi ding ding ding…. Music… yes.)

(-.-)

"Oh god yes!" Grell waltzed into the room. "Hold me! You beautiful man!" and he promptly glided over to the Undertaker and Haruhi, and tossed Haruhi to the floor then seated himself in Undies lap.

(I really wanna buy metal chapsticks…chopsticks)

(-.-)

"Sometimes, when I'm alone, I like to obsessively eat toilet paper."

"Yeah, me too,"

Two hobos outside of the apartment agreed, nodding.

"What do you think you're doing?" Kyoya, the cool, asked all too coolly as he forced his spectacles up the elegant bridge of his elegant nose, his face contorted into an elegant, questioning stare.

"Quick! Fetch the toilet paper!" Tamaki stood abruptly, causing Honey's head to collide with the floor.

"Toilet paper?" Hikaru asked, pulling his face away from his brother's partially exposed chest.

"Boss?" Kaoru asked, his voice little more than a sigh.

"Yes! The toilet paper, you idiots! Don't you understand!?" He screeched all too kingly.

"I'm gonna throw up…" Haruhi swooned happily, then closed her eyes as she rolled around on the floor, sighing in complete contentment. Then she proceeded to belch very loudly.

"Well, my my… goodness sakes. My goodness." The Undertaker mused, swaying slightly with the burden of Grell's weight.

It was a lovely little display of whatever it was, no one could really say for sure, but it was lovely, that's for sure. That is, until everyone noticed the atrocity transpiring before their eyes, Undies was back, it seemed, in all his hideous glory, clinging to a lovely little Grell while gazing upon the lovely little Haruhi who was currently preoccupied with her drunk induced stupor.

"Oh finally, he has returned to his repugnant self!" Grell cried in ecstasy.

And as Grell screeched in that pleasured way, no one took notice of the wobbling Haruhi, who had begun to make her way out the door of the bedroom, Beatrum. Because you see, Beatrum, everyone was so preoccupied with trying to figure out what Tamaki could possibly mean by 'fetch the toilet paper' and Undies was too far gone, back into his normal idiocy, to notice anything really… so Haruhi, the wafer thin, flat chested, pale creature wobbled happily from the room, muttering to herself about toilets and their various uses.

As she found herself in the living room – as if she had left herself there or something -, she began to take notice of the many drops of sweat protruding from her pores onto her delicately lotioned skin. So, in hopes of ceasing her pores of such wasteful disposal, she tore off her dress in utter rejection. It was a hard and tedious task, ridding herself of such affronting apparel, but she managed it, and proceeded to fling the red dress in the direction of the hallway. She felt so much more free, in only her thin slip and panties, it was its own kind of delight; sparsely dressed delight! A-la-carte!

"Haruhi!" Kaoru cried, just as he realized Haruhi had left the vicinities.

So, with the swiftness of a cat, he sprinted off, down the hall, towards Haruhi, towards the living room, towards the destination he strived for. He sprinted until he was there, next to Haruhi, well, more or less. He had actually ran right in to her, rather harshly, causing the small maiden to fall over, hitting her head against the sofa with a low pfff.

"Kaoru! What have you done to Haruhi!" Tamaki cried from the hallway, lifting her discarded dress from the floor as if it were a delicate flower… A flower heedlessly castoff, unwanted, forgotten… how could she?

"Ohhhh! That dress! I really must try it on!" Grell crooned next to Tamaki's ear, and snatched the dress from him, leaving the king to stare at his now empty hands.

My flower has been taken from me… Tamaki thought idiotically to himself, a deep, symbolic play began taking place in the theater of his mind. Alas, his blond head was far too blundering and blubbery to be anything but utter sap at the moment, and he had completely forgotten about the real Haruhi, who was currently lying on the floor, in a useless heap of sweat and drool, Kaoru hovering over her, trying desperately to see if she were alright without actually touching her. She was dressed far too sparsely for touching to be seemly.

Then, abruptly, Hikaru entered the room, sprinting into the room and shoving his twin aside to get a better look at the unconscious damsel.

"Haruhi?" Hikaru implored, but he was unable to ask much more, because as his face got increasingly closer to hers she was obviously not completely gone from the world, because her arms sprung up, like hungry baby birds, the pale appendages wrapping about his neck tightly. And he lost his balance and would've quite nearly crushed her if he had not reacted as quickly as he did, his arms braced against the carpet of the floor, his face inches from hers, her arms a soft vice about his neck, forcing him closer; a proximity he couldn't find in himself to dislike.

His eyes blinked in surprise, as he couldn't help but notice the subtle, pleased smile adorning the small woman's face, her lips looking quite satisfying and all too delicious at that moment. He felt it then, the blush creeping up his neck, desperate to take over the contours of his astonished face. This, of course, transpired in only a matter of seconds, but to Hikaru, it seemed an eternity, though perhaps a short eternity, in which he hadn't the state of mind to do anything but look upon the girl beneath him. How long had it been? Since when had he forgotten the effect this flat-chested, once-boyish girl had on him, and he was struck again by the oddity it was, that this particular female could cause him to lose his head with just the hint of a smile.

And High School began all over again, at least it did for Hikaru, in his heart anyway. Doki… Doki-doki.

"What are you doing?" Kaoru asked, gently prying Haruhi's loose grip off Hikaru's neck.

Hikaru immediately moved a small space away, muttering about being hot and drinking too much and removed his shirt saying something about it choking him, which Kaoru found rather silly, and narrowed his eyes at his twin, finding confusion etched upon his brother's brow.

"Careful," Kaoru leaned toward his twin and placed a finger upon Hikaru's brow. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep that up, and I can't have that happening," Kaoru smiled sweetly when his gentle touch took its effect and Hikaru seemed to calm down.

A moment passed when nothing really happened. Then Grell burst into the room wearing Haruhi's dress and chaos ensued for a few breathless moments. Then, suddenly, everyone seemed to give in to the more calming effects of alcohol, and they all fell asleep, cuddled on the floor of the living room.

Mori and Sebastian entered the room only moments later, both wearing scrumptious suits, both resembling that of attractive butlers.

"I suppose no one shall be joining us," Sebastian spoke drolly, lifting his pretty little teacup from its saucer and placing the porcelain to his soft lips.

Mori allowed a suggestion of a smile to take residence on his face as he surveyed the room, until his dark eyes caught and held to the form of the small blond boy, at which point the hint of a smile faded abruptly.

(RESUME, THE MORNING AFTER…)

As Mori began cooking the eggs he had been stirring moments before, Sebastian took notice of the girl, collapsed in the doorway.

"My, my, what a mess you've managed to make of yourself," Sebastian said indifferently, seeming to look upon such a scene as this before, perhaps many times in the past. Always so many messes. So many things needing to be cleaned, disposed of, repaired, redeemed even, for that was the job of a butler. To clean things, dispose of things, repair things, redeem things even, that was Sebastian's job. And so, with little hesitation, he went to the girl-in-a-messy-heap and began the task of cleansing the area… and the girl. "Mori, please excuse my absence, I will attend to Gujil-gujil," Sebastian spoke curtly, then left the room with the girl in his arms.

Mori, however, had no idea what a Gujil-gujil was, seeing as how he was, in fact, Japanese, and not, in fact, Korean. He thought that Sebastian, perhaps, was just confused, so Mori decided to mentally forgive him of such a terrible mistake. Seeing as how Sebastian was, in fact, English, Mori suspected that he was another of those people who couldn't tell the difference in Asian attributes; one of those simple-minded blokes who thought all Asians looked the same, when, in fact, they didn't, not at all really. So, with the pale man forgiven, mentally, Mori went back to his cooking of the eggs, undaunted, unaffected, as was his way.

"Oh, you do so remind me of my late master." Sebastian said calmly, his eyes shown like blank abysses, his face lax of all emotion as he tended to the messy body of Haruhi; in Haruhi's own courters, of course, for he intended to dress her.

As Sebastian finished the cleansing of the girl, he looked at her again, holding her wrist in his gloved hand, studying her own hands with much interest, seeming so intrigued by the pale skin.

"It's remarkable… you must be the reincarnation of my master. The resemblance is too canny, as if the universe would enjoy playing a trick on me," he smiled at the thought, then proceeded to look for a nice comfortable pair of pants she might wear, and a t-shirt.

He approached the bed that she laid upon, prepared to remove her soiled clothing(s).

(THE CLOTHINGS BEATRUM!)

(^.^)

As he set the pants and the t-shirt onto the end of bed a certain black shadow entered through the door. Sebastian didn't mind it, sensing the presence to be only the lithe, supple body of the black cat.

But he did cease his movement as something unexpected happened, something so surreal it even boggled the mind of the demon. His eyes began to glow red with the sudden condescending tone coming from beside the bed. His head slowly turned and looked down at the cat, the black cat with big sapphire eyes, a fanged smile stretching its feline face.

"Really now Sebastian, are you so weak now that the universe daunts you? It's been far too long since you've devoured a soul hasn't it? Especially since you were never to eat mine, besides, from what I can tell, you're far too easily tricked to begin with," how cold, how cruel the voice was, the voice that belonged to the cat, the once beloved…

"Master," Sebastian whispered breathlessly, his eyes wide in shock, his face even paler than usual.

"Yes, you finally caught on," The cat said almost amusingly, jumping onto the bed with perfect grace, "I'm disappointed in you Sebastian. Really, I thought you were supposed to be clever, deceiving one. You've been a demon much longer than I, are you so diminished?"

Sebastian simply stared. Seemingly unable to move, he could only watch as the cat inspected Haruhi, then looked back to him with those cool sapphire eyes.

"That big man… Strange," the cat purred. "I like him too. His soul seems so… pure, untainted. Delicious even," the cat grinned, then cast his eyes back on the girl. "But I must ask Sebastian, this girl, she looks an awful lot like me, have you missed me, since my supposed demised? So much that you're catering to her now? Without even the glimmer of hope that you'll receive anything in return? I know why Grell spoke to her last night, wouldn't you like to know too…" the cat then flawlessly leapt to the floor and made his leisurely way to the door, then paused, his tail swishing to and fro as he turned his grinning face back to the pale man. "Another thing, tell no one of my identity… that's an order, Sebastian," his voice alone was a command.

"Yes… Master," Sebastian bowed, his hand on his left breast, raising his eyes at the last instant to watch the little black cat strut formidably out the door and down the hall.

….

Haruhi… her eyes sparkled, an almost hesitant look resting on her perfect visage. He could barely look at her without being brought to his knees with how womanly she looked, since when had his little girl grown into such a beautiful lady? She sat before him, shyness overtaking her every movement; from her downcast brown eyes, to her fingers, gloved in satiny lace, just barely grazing the exposed skin above her small breasts (oh to be the glove on that hand!), as if her fingers could calm the fluttering of her frantic heart caged within her chest, which swelled with every little intake of breath. Her soft cheeks were decorated with the excitement of passion as she mentally prepared herself for what was next to come. To come… TO CUM, TO CUM, TOCUM!

The entirety of Tamaki's being was flustered… yes, in more ways, in more places, than one. His feathers were all in a ruffle.

He stood before his Venus, his excitement was… obviously noticeable… though contained within the gauzy fabric of his Pharaoh's kilt. Golden sandals adorned his feet, golden arm-bands clasped around each of his biceps, arm-bands that were often bestowed upon slaves, for he was a slave to his goddess.

"Sempai… you're making me nervous," Haruhi blushed prettily as she glanced at, then away from Tamaki.

"And why's that, my princess?" Tamaki asked, his voice a soft, tender caress, causing Haruhi to shiver, as he took a step closer. His eyes shown with such adoration, his love fully displayed in the warmth he imparted upon his little princess.

"You're just standing there watching me… it's embarrassing," Haruhi coyly hid her shy smile behind her gloved fingers.

"Oh, then I should come closer shouldn't I?" and he did. The closer he got the more excited he became!

"Mmm," Haruhi grunted softly, as Tamaki's hand traveled the length of her thigh, to her hip, then up to her…

"Tamaki," Haruhi's deep voice caressed Tamaki's ears… deep? He stopped, taking a quick glance at Haruhi's face… and found Mori's black eyes staring back at him, and he bolted upright, breathing rapidly, sweat clinging to his immaculate forehead, and a certain problem sprouting from his nether-regions. "You should take care of that…" Mori mused, indicating the problem at hand.

"Ah… yes," Tamaki stuttered turning about 50 shades of… red.

So he was off, speed walking to the restroom where he could better tend to his problem when he took notice of the happenings in a room, Haruhi's room to be exact. He halted, creeping towards the bedroom door, peeking through the crack, just big enough for a small animal to fit through, and just big enough for Tamaki to see the happenings inside the room clearly. And the happenings were that of that shady-butler-man tucking in his, Tamaki's, goddess.

Mori was in the other room, however, shaking all of the sleeping boys to wakefulness, for after all it was the morning and breakfast was ready and waiting, but first he would have to remind all of them to take care of all of their problems.


	8. I Never

"I'm worried," Tamaki stated in a worried kind of way, his eyes gazing out the tinted window of the limo, his lavender eyes shown with uneasiness, his hand placed over his mouth worriedly.

"Oh, don't worry Tama-chan! Kaoru said it'll be fun!" Honey said encouragingly as he squeezed his most loved object in the whole wide world! It was his icing to his cupcake, the chocolate in his cookie, the Taemin to his Minho! That was Honey's Usa-chan!

"I'm so excited!" Kaoru finally burst, his excitement being forced to bottle itself in the innermost depths of his body for the entire day. He had been looking forward to this excursion ever since they had found themselves in the American airport.

"Excited in more ways than one, I suspect." Kyoya pointed out insightfully.

"I've been anticipating this moment for… EVER!" Kaoru squealed, and grabbed Hikaru's arm, wiggling against it in his uncontainable bliss.

"Kaoru… You're ruining my mood," Hikaru drawled, and attempted to extricate his arm from Kaoru's feverish grip.

"Mood?" Kaoru inquired innocently.

"Yes,"

"OH! If you need someone to hang onto just hold me!" Grell squealed fangirlistcally, shimmying his way towards Kaoru, throwing his arms about the boy's neck in a pedophilic way.

"LET GO OF ME YOU TRANNY!" Kaoru called out demandingly, his arms flexing in an alluring way as he tried to pry the man off of him, but, little did Kaoru know, that this man/woman was a reaper, therefore much stronger than any mortal being.

"Not until you give me a big kiss! With tongue!" Grell negotiated, puckering his lips after licking them thoroughly, preparing the pink skin for their descending attack. And he would've been successful had Hikaru not been sitting right next to his brother, who was somehow able to snatch his twin away when Grell closed his piercing green eyes.

"We're here." Mori stated indifferently a few seconds after the limo had pulled to a stop.

"So… remind me why we're allowing Haruhi to accompany us to a burlesque club." Hikaru asked wonderingly.

All eyes turned to Haruhi then, who wore a wig, and boy's clothes, none of the men wanting any of the other men to take interest in their perfect flower.

"Because, Daddy couldn't just leave her at the apartment!" Tamaki was quick to defend his reasoning, which was bogus.

Besides, Tamaki knew that Haruhi didn't like women… at least he thought she didn't. But wasn't it Haruhi who said that sex shouldn't matter, that it was the inside that counts? Haruhi's probably bi. If you think about it.

"She does make such a beautiful boy!" Grell announced happily, inspecting Haruhi at every angle he could manage.

"Shouldn't we be getting out of this car now?" Haruhi asked, disinterest apparent in her blank expression. She wasn't particularly excited about this outing, but Honey had said there would be food, and Kaoru had already had her outfit ready… and Tamaki had been adamant about her coming; so she had had little choice in the matter. Anyway, she was ready to get inside where the food was, it seemed like a pretty high-class place so she was hoping they'd have fancy tuna at least.

Once they entered the front door they began to descend down a red carpeted ramp, the walls around them black accented with red tapestries, the lighting dim, sensual, which only made Kaoru's condition become even more evident. Kaoru was very excited, practically frolicking down the ramp to their destination, unable to contain himself… in more ways than one. Frothing at the bit!

"Ok boys… Welcome to Black Lace," Kyoya announced before pushing aside the red curtain at the end of the line. Fog raced past the curtain and swarmed around their ankles as they continued into the mystic room, their eyes adjusting slowly to the dim, purple-hued room.

"Wow! Look at that spread!" Haruhi called out blissfully, immediately running towards the buffet, not even glancing toward the main attraction.

The main attraction. A spectacular display. Honey was quite entranced, enthralled even; he was quite unable to tear his eyes off of the scene taking place in front of him.

"Oh my God," Honey said in a low whisper, his voice not sounding so childish all of sudden.

"She has skills," Mori lets out in seemingly impressed monotone.

"I'd tap that," The Undertaker says coolly, his head nodding a few times, biting his bottom lip happily.

"Kaoru hasn't tried that move yet," Hikaru said indifferently as his eyes trailed after Haruhi.

"Girls can do that!?" Kaoru stuttered, his jaw dropping about to his knees and his cheeks taking on a bright pink hue.

Tamaki, standing near the back of the group, promptly fell backward, fainting at the first sight of the sparingly dressed, dancing women.

Kyoya signaled for some men, dressed all in black, to tend to Tamaki's unconscious state. Sebastian, the only man seeming utterly uninterested with the dancing women watched Kyoya closely, suspicion rising in him at how obedient the men working here followed the bespectacled man's orders.

The king was carried to a posh red couch, quite near the stage, the other hosts ambling on behind the black-clad men. All of the hosts, exempting Hikaru who was still watching Haruhi, were still transfixed by the dancing women. Hence the ambling.

Everyone's attention, even Hikaru's, was soon transfixed on an even more alluring sight. Haninozuka, a boy of once 4 feet and 9 inches tall had, in a matter seconds, bloomed into a man of 5 feet and 11 inches, an inch taller than the twins, yet two inches shorter than Tamaki.

"Mitsukuni?" Mori asked of the tall, handsome figure standing at his side.

"Takashi," Honey's voice was tainted with masculinity, a tantalizing reverberation, a sensual resonance mingling with the light music accompanying the dancers. "Go get me a drink," he spoke without inflection, a sound and definite command.

Mori almost flinched at the seemingly harsh tone of his beloved friend's voice, the command ripping at someplace deep within him. But, nevertheless, he turned toward the buffet, turning again to his friend only to ask: "And cake?" in his monotonous way, as if this command weren't a surprise at all, as if nothing could sting him.

"Cake is for children. I won't have any," Honey replied curtly, and sat down on the couch next to Tamaki. And at this, the host's eyes widened in horror, and Mori said nothing, only turned away, toward the buffet, and when he was sure no one could see his face, he frowned in dismay.

Hikaru followed soon after Mori had made his departure, seeing as Haruhi was still staring aghast at the plethora of comestibles on the buffet, where she was… currently. He wanted to be there. Where she was. Currently.

A rather pretty woman, Sebastian noticed, was on the stage, and she couldn't seem to remove her heated gaze from Sebastian's scrumptious physic. He might have been more interested in her if her soul didn't appear to be so grotesquely spoiled. Actually, now that he thought about it, for an inkling of a moment, all of the girls here had rather unappetizingly withered, slimy souls, all, but one. He couldn't see her, he sensed her, that's how potently eccentric her soul was and would be.

And from the curtains behind the stage she came, in all her glory, the auburn haired maiden, attired in sultry, summer lingerie. She danced crazily, her wide hips and large breasts shaking in a rhythmic, sensual way, causing every man's eye to widen in hopes of seeing more of this voluptuous goddess. However, Sebastian only had one thing on his mind. He wanted her badly. He wanted to rip and tear her to pieces in the most delicious of ways. As he eyed her with lust gleaming from his demonic blood, red eyes, she saw him, her eyes gleaming back, almost seeming to answer his call. She smiled wickedly at him, only causing him to smirk back.

How she was different from the other women to make her soul seem so decadent, saucy, and utterly perfect was beyond Sebastian's recollection, but alas, he did not care. All he wanted was her soul itself, he needed not the reasons for her soul's immaculate flavor.

Once her dance was finished, her body pressed sensually against a pole's metal frame, Sebastian took his queue, and moved in for the kill… soon to be quite literal. He sat down on one of the red-velvet sofa's, which had gold legs and a gold crown and he motioned for her to join him. Many other men did so as well, but in the end she was the one who had to decide and she only had eyes for the demon.

She walked leisurely towards him, making him wait, her every step a testament of the control she had over the situation. Sebastian knew otherwise. She held grace in every step she took. Her skin was golden, glistening with health, her shoulders and delicate face accented with natural and lovely dark, golden flecks. Some would think them to be imperfections, but Sebastian knew that they were kisses from angels, as many myths go. Her eyes were like honey, dark and sweet. Her nose was small and button-like. He legs were long and leanly muscled, Sebastian swore they went on for days! And her lovely torso, soft yet toned, a small chain with a jewel dangling at the end was bestowed upon the hole humans call a navel; and that torso also held breasts, lovely breasts, D sized breasts, even a few freckles were lovingly situated on the top of those plush, pillowy bosoms… oh, those devilish angels.

As she finally made her way to him, she sat down, elegantly beside him, leaving a whole foot between them. Sebastian smiled, his eyes staring intently into hers, as if her glorious body were an afterthought, like he did only care for her… or her soul.

"I'm pleased to see the earth is still graced with such elegance as yourself," He said smoothly, not a hint of nervousness or even false praise detected in his soothingly low voice.

"My, my, I didn't think gentlemen came to such places as these… or even existed for that matter." She said, her voice as smooth as the honey color of her skin.

Sebastian smirked evilly, "Oh, I assure you, I am in no way a gentleman… now then, should I get you something to drink?"

The girl smiled at him amusingly, as he bowed to her.

"No thanks, I'd much rather serve you… what do you want me to do?" She asked him, unashamed of her work and perfectly happy to please him in any way she was able, any way he desired.

This was a change for Sebastian. He had lived his entire existence as a human serving other people, that's why he became a human, to be a butler, to serve his master. This change of events was rather daunting to the raven-haired man. And what beautiful hair he did have!

"Well," Sebastian began happily, "I want you, in me," he finished seductively, leaning in closer to her ever so slightly, as if he were telling a great secret, a small smile turning up the corner of his ravenous mouth. He awaited her answer in eager anticipation, knowing she would interpret his words differently from what he truly wanted.

"That's a little kinky," she replied smiling back, only seeming more pleased with his wishes, "But I think that should be reserved for a separate chamber," She informed sensually, also bringing her face closer to his, truly seeming to want to fulfill his wishes.

"Then what shall we do?" Sebastian asked as if this were a true problem.

"My master has rooms in the back for such an occasion as this," She told him, an actual shiver running down Sebastian's spine at her lips producing the word master.

"We should acquire one of these rooms, shouldn't we?" Sebastian asked, suddenly feeling anxious, hungry.

He had been hungry far too long, but it was only now that he realized he was famished.

"Of course." She answered back, already standing, also seeming a bit restless.

He suspected that she was never really excited to go to one of these private chambers with a man, but he was no man, and even if she wasn't aware of this, she soon would be.

Sebastian grabbed her wrist gently as she began to walk away, her eyes shooting towards him in a questioning, passionate stare.

"Also, call me master," Sebastian breathed, then brought her hand to his lips, adorning the skin there with a tender kiss, allowing his heated breath to dance across her skin. Then he allowed her to slip away, through his fingers, and he knew she would hurry back.

…

"Haruhi, be careful, you're going to puke if you eat all that…" Hikaru cautioned timidly, knowing that telling Haruhi to be careful about eating too much was never a smart idea.

"Shut up you hag!" Haruhi screamed, sending a small spray of spit and chocolate cream in Hikaru's direction, then stuffed another chocolate éclair into her, mostly, vacuous mouth.

Hikaru sat back against the cushions of the red couch, sighing in defeat, looking towards his brother who was currently being swarmed by five or so young ladies, his hands still in his pants, where it had been since they had arrived here. Hikaru breathed through clenched teeth as he watched Kaoru's cheeks blossom a rosy shade as his eyes rolled just a bit, then he was back at it. One lady was playing with his fox-red hair, another was whispering into his ear – and possibly licking it, Hikaru couldn't tell – another had his feet in her lap, and the smallest one, Hikaru noticed, kept trying to either get him to let her pull his shirt up or maybe let her get in his pants and help him out… and then there were the two that had brought over drinks and food who kept hanging around, trying to get in on the fun.

"God…" Hikaru sighed in annoyance, then looked back at Haruhi and wondered for the umpteenth time why he was so fixated on this woman when he could have ten other ones right now, all of which more woman than she was. But he grinned, then leaned over and wiped a bit of cream and chocolate off the corner of her mouth, and she looked over and smiled at him, her cheeks bulging with whatever she had managed to stuff inside. "Just eat slower, it's not going to run away, you know," he smirked, then stood, intending to go stop his brother from consuming more alcohol.

Kaoru smiled widely when Hikaru approached, but didn't stop what he was oh so obviously doing, his belt unbuckled, his pants unzipped for better access.

Hikaru raised an eyebrow, then, without a second thought, shoved the girls whispering in Kaoru's ear aside and plopped down by his brother, two different girls situating themselves next to him, waiting for an invitation.

"You know, if you keep fapping so much, you're going to go blind in the next two years," Hikaru stated blandly, the girls around him all giggling and hitting him playfully… in several places.

"That's just silly, masturbating is very healthy," one of the girls said as she began trailing her hand up the elder twin's thigh, which he watched for a moment, seemingly unaffected by the suggestive gesture, then brought his harsh golden eyes to the girl's own, as if daring her to continue. She didn't.

Hikaru nodded, as if knowing the woman would have stopped, then slowly let his gaze retreat back to his brother, who was still going at it.

"You're disgusting," Hikaru spoke softly, right into Kaoru's ear, his voice filled to the brim with adoration, a gentle tease fluttering against the skin of Kaoru's ear. And Kaoru nearly moaned, but quickly reined himself in. Then he felt the couch cushion shift as his brother stood to leave.

"Wait... Hikaru…" Kaoru let the words slip between his lips in a pained gasp; his brother's words had cut deep.

"Ahhhh~" the girls around Kaoru swooned at, what seemed to be, brotherly love taking place before them.

"Are they lovers or something?" one girl asked in a breathless manner.

All of them seemed unaware of the real effect Hikaru's words had taken on Kaoru. He zipped up his pants, in shame of the way his brother thought of him.

"Oh no," Hikaru spoke as he turned, gracefully, around, a hand running through his hair dreamily. "We're much more than that," then he continued his trek back to Haruhi, smiling to himself, pleased to leave a trail of gushing girls behind him. Ah yes, Hikaru had returned to his high school years, host club and all.

Mori sat alone in a corner, by himself, he was alone, only himself to accompany himself… he had only himself for company… Himself and the floor, for he knew that if he were to come in contact with anything, other than himself and the floor, it would be disastrous.

His eyes traveled in the direction of his Honey, Haninozuka, who sat on a couch, not by himself, not alone, he had others for company, women, to be exact. With big bosoms, to be exact. And one with a rather large ass to be exact.

"Mori likes asses," Mori said to himself then dropped his head into his hands. "I… Never…" the rest of his words were lost to his palms.


	9. Yeuuuussss

Then the lady returned, an elegant key dangled from her elegant fingers, suspended on an elegant red ribbon.

"This way… master." She said casually, not effected by the new name she had to call this demon man, for to her, this was the only name she knew him by.

Sebastian rose from his couch cushion, a smile playing at his lips.

And to the room they went. It was down a hall, that room, a dimly lit hall, because everything seemed to be dimly lit in this place! In fact the room wasn't lit at all; there was no light, much better for the imagination. That is, until the lady turned the lights on, the lights very… dim. The dimness of the room did not surprise Sebastian, not in the least, he expected it, the dimness, in fact.

She shut the door, looking at Sebastian slyly, "So… you want me in you, right?" She asked humorously.

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Sebastian replied, prowling towards her in a dominant, intimidating way, causing her to take steps back, towards the bed, just as he wanted.

Now, this lady's gentleman seemed to transform before her eyes, in the most enticing manner, taking on the attributes of a great hunting cat. His eyes seemed to pierce through her very being as he came, slowly, ever closer; his every movement causing her veins to rush with a form of adrenaline that she didn't expect in this kind of familiar situation, anticipation igniting her nerves with a sharp keenness. She was eager, and the evidence of this rose as a pink flush on her golden skin, so eager to please this man she was to call master.

She sat down gently, using her hands as a cushion, as to not fall backwards, afraid that her intensified anxiousness might show through with her movements; she didn't feel quite so confident or blessed with grace now. She was never nervous when it came to such activities as these; it was a normal occurrence in her life, her beauty seeming almost a curse, but for some reason, now she felt exposed. Her arm wrapped subconsciously around her middle, the way an insecure, young girl might tend to do.

A throaty chuckle reverberated through Sebastian's chest as he watched the girl then, his hands placed on either side of the lady's thighs, trapping her as he loomed over her angelic form, "This is a turn of events, isn't it? Why so nervous now, my lovely imp?" His visage leaning closer towards hers with every passing second, his warm, sweet breath caressed her plush, pouty lips.

"I'm not nervous… this is just an act." She said, all too nervously.

"Ah, well, you're an amazing actress then." Sebastian growled demonically, his eyes darkening as he grabbed her wrist, his fingers grazing the skin of her waist, just barely, as he tenderly lifted her arm away from her torso. His lips met with the back of her hand, once again.

"I don't like hide and seek," He whispered against her hand matter-of-factly, his eyes meeting with hers in an almost timid way, in hopes of calming her tense state, knowing that she, without even realizing, had started to recognize him for what he truly was. Humans were much more perceptible nowadays, the only wall separating this woman from really knowing Sebastian's true form was the fact that humans tended to believe demons weren't actually tangible beings, but rather lived in a separate dimension altogether.

She took in a deep breath, only proving that she was, in fact, quite uneasy about this whole situation, yet thrilled all the same. She was curious. And that curiosity had a strong hold on her, and kept her from stopping this situation completely. She allowed Sebastian, this mysterious and beautiful man, to continue, whatever his wishes may be, and she reminded herself: this was just a job.

The gloved hand that held hers slowly pulled away as he brought it to his own mouth, watching her all the while with that same, heated, controlling gaze. He placed the tip of his middle finger to his teeth, where he leisurely, pulled the white fabric off, revealing his perfect, pale, lanky fingers, his black, matte fingernails, and the perfectly geometric pentagram on the back of his lovely hand. The woman studied, what she believed to be, a tattoo with much interest, then raised her eyes reluctantly, yet curiously to his.

"Are you part of a cult?" she asked bluntly as Sebastian's eyes left hers, his hand that held the tattoo beginning to travel up her arm, one finger tracing the elegant line of her collarbone, then traveled up her slender throat, only to stop at her chin, which he gently tilted in his direction, his eyes not meeting hers until he looked at every feature of her carefully sculpted face.

"I'm your master…" He paused and glanced down her body, a small smile curving up one corner of his mouth. "Are you in any position to ask questions?" he raised an eyebrow, and placed his other still-gloved hand upon her smooth thigh. (Which he could obviously feel…through his glove…)

(Well, they're not real gloves… they're obviously just pretend)

The woman swallowed at his sensual tone and even seductive words. How could a man be so confident, intimidating, and utterly beautiful as he?

"Now then," Sebastian began, his hand journeyed up her thigh, his eyes glancing quickly down, then back up as one of his fingers hooked the hem of her black-lace panties, "What is your name?" He asked, his eyes glancing to her lips ever so often.

"Cossette… you may call me that," she answered softly, her own eyes unable to look into his, all confidence lost.

"Oh no, that's not it. Tell me your real name… all of it." He spoke almost demandingly, his eyes catching hers suddenly.

"Elle Espionage," She said after a moment of silence, but unable to not tell him, Sebastian seeming to hold some kind of spell over her.

"Ah, Elle," Sebastian let the name slip over his tongue, savoring the simple taste.

Elle looked down at Sebastian's hand that held onto her undergarments, almost surprised that they hadn't come off yet, "And you?" she asked, her eyes rising back up to his timidly.

Sebastian hummed amusingly, as if contemplating on whether or not he should tell her, "Sebastian… Michaelis," he smirked, knowing she'd know who he was.

And she did, her eyes going momentarily wide, but she soon dismissed the thought once Sebastian shook his head slightly, "Don't think about it… I'm becoming too restless to talk about my current occupation,"

"As you wish, Master." She said, almost bowing her head.

Sebastian, even being the devil that he was, a devil not easily surprised, was surprised in that moment. The only being he had ever met in his life that was mortal and could surprise him had been Ciel, but those words, coming from the lips of a human being, any being really, was a surprise in and of itself. And the fact that those words were meant for his ears… it was a blessed sound. He almost felt sorry that this women wouldn't be around for much longer, but that was only a moments' thought. He didn't allow this moment of surprise to last for long, he smiled warmly at the woman below him, and ran the lace of her panties between his fingers.

(Nyaaaaaa~ today is a happy day! Happy day! Happy happ-happy! ^.^ ahahahaa!)

(I have~ boobies on my~ backsiiiiiiide~)

"These are rather bothersome aren't they? When I first saw them, I didn't think they'd be the most comfortable of things," An evil glint became evident in Sebastian's gleaming, seductive eyes, "Perhaps it has come time to dispose of these." And with that, the panties were quite undone… ripped off really, no longer usable, a useless piece of fabric, no longer fit to wear.

(Oh god! What to do? Ugh… undress them? More details? Agh! … P.P., I'm scared!)

(OH ME TOO! How do we go about this oh so terribly sexy scene!?)

As Sebastian dropped the useless piece of black lace to the ground he dropped his jacket and began the unbuttoning of his white dress shirt. As his fingers skillfully, slowly undid each button Elle became impatient, helping him with the remaining few buttons. And seeing how frustrated and bothered the woman was becoming, Sebastian (tripped and fell on the bed!) place both of his hands on her bare shoulders and gently shoved her back onto the bed, and smiled, a smile that promised he would soon join her.

"Close your eyes… and don't open them until I say," he said in a breathy voice, his words laced with a sort of threat almost, as if the consequences would be great if she were to go against them.

"Are you shy?" She asked amusingly as she closed her eyes obediently.

"Not at all, I'm just full of surprises," Sebastian stated softly.

"Oh, I'm sure you are," Elle chuckled.

A moment passed in silence, then the bed creaked softly. Sebastian leaned over Elle's reclining form, her eyes still closed, a small smile playing at her expecting lips. She kept her eyes dutifully closed as Sebastian brought his lips to her throat, kissing the flesh there softly, his tongue playing with her skin, and he snaked a trail of those teasing kisses down to her collarbone where his teeth, softly, came into play. He plied gently at the delicate skin covering her elegant bones, then continued on with those wicked kisses until he had managed to travel to the porcelain canyon created by her luminous breasts.

"This must go," he whispered against her skin, and smiled when he felt her shiver slightly.

The clasp was in front, so it was an easy business undoing it with his teeth. And he didn't wait for the thing to be properly removed, as soon as new skin was exposed he attacked. Those kisses, soft and plying, teasing and playful, continued, her flesh responding by flushing a soft shade of rose. She was now beginning to wonder what exactly the reason was for her having to close her eyes. What happenings had gone on before Sebastian joined her on the bed? She really wanted to know.

"May I… look?" she asked breathlessly, Sebastian's kisses seeming to take on a more intense form and his lips did seem so different from other men she had been with.

"Hmmm… no," Sebastian breathed, and that was all the reply she got, before he continued with his merciless teasing.

He did something new. He tasted her. His tongue a lingering sort of warmth, even when it was no longer there, against her flesh. She could feel him, hovering above her, his mouth breathing softly against her. And when his lips returned, so soft and full and hungry, to her breast, she couldn't help but feel that he was trying to taste everything about her, within her, and perhaps he could, and that was frightening, to think that with this touch, that caress, this kiss, he could taste and know everything about her, her soul, her very being, all.

His tongue traced a delicate line down her torso, stopping at her navel, teasing the flesh around it, then tasting the navel itself. A hand found its way into Sebastian's thick, raven-hair, pulling slightly as a soft giggle made its way up her elegant throat. She could feel Sebastian's lips turn up, a smirk dancing across his lips against her heated skin.

"Master…" She giggled eagerly. "How can I possibly serve you… like this?"

Sebastian lifted his gaze to her still closed eyes, grinning at the fact that she was still complying with such a trivial request. Just to see, he snaked his fingers to her exposed bosom, gently tracing the erect strawberry, and he was quite satisfied with her small twinge of surprise, biting her bottom lip after a moment. "How can you… I find more pleasure serving than being served," he whispered, and decided it had to be done, and traveled his way back up her gorgeously naked form, descending, firstly, upon the sweetly waiting strawberry, then continuing on his way to her open mouth, biting her bottom lip softly then covering her mouth with his own, his tongue becoming a tool that probed and searched, playing with her lips and her own tongue, tickling the roof of her mouth, bringing them both into a state of utter indulgence. Her hands found their way to Sebastian's muscled back, her fingers tracing down the perfect dip of his spine, her senses becoming even more excited by such a tantalizingly strong physic.

He tried to pull away, but her hands were quick, and she tangled her fingers in his dark hair, forcing her own tongue into his warm, delicious mouth. He had a truly amazing talent, his kissing wasn't quite like anything she had ever experienced, and that was saying something. She wanted more. And as their tongues continued their passionate dance that's exactly what she got. A subtle hand rested gently on her quivering breast leaving it cold as his fingers softly grazed against her skin as they traveled slowly down, his nails gently pressed to her skin, trails of fire being left behind. She hardly realized what he was doing, too entranced with his artful way of kissing, she could hardly pay attention to anything else, until… And she gasped, her eyes shooting open in wonder.

"Hmm… You finally opened your eyes," Sebastian said, staring at her blissful face as his fingers continued their dexterous dance within her. "Disobeying your master… what a naughty girl. You'll have to be punished."

She let out a gasp, unable to reply at first, opening her mouth multiple times, wanting to speak, but unable to as Sebastian mercilessly went on.

"Speak," He commanded, smiling wickedly, not letting up for a moment.

"Punish…. Me…. Master," she spoke in heated, broken sighs.

It made absolutely no sense. The way this made her feel. How could he possibly… And what would happen when the main event came around? She almost couldn't bear to think about it.

"As you wish… Beloved," He whispered into her ear tenderly, then nibbled at her cartilage.

And then he did… He stopped.

He ran his wet fingers up her thigh, stopped at her knee. Kissed her neck. Moved her leg. Kissed down. Down. And she whimpered.

There was a shadow, over near the door. Sebastian saw it, only for a moment, what appeared to be the shadow of… a cat? He knew exactly who it was, but he didn't allow that to faze him. His meal was before him and he would not be disturbed until the ritual was complete. Until they became one.

He rose, licking his lips as he watched her sparkling eyes closely, his gaze serious and intense as he neared her face once more, his lips only a wisp away from her own. He bent his head down, brushing his lips against hers and watched as her eyelashes fluttered open, revealing to him again those glassy eyes glazed with pleasure. Again, he kissed her, her mouth lazy against his, wanting more for breath than kisses, but when he pulled away wanting more for kisses than breath; such a harried dance, and it would become even more, as he brought his flesh to hers. Her warmth and longing cascading through and over him, nearly drowning him in passion and a certain form of despondency, the kind that only arises when one realizes that merely touching, flesh to flesh, is still a forever distance.

He placed his hands behind her head, his fingers captured by her abundant hair, and gazed warmly and hungrily into her softened eyes. "Beloved," he breathed, watching her intently, marveling at the serene beauty of one about to be taken, of one about to be consumed. "Tell me," he leaned into her, his mouth a whisper against her ear, his breath hot, ready. "What is it that you want most, Elle?"

But he already knew.


	10. The Moanings

Kyoya wasn't quite sure he should actually let Sebastian take his best girl to one of the back rooms. There was something suspicious about him that left a bad taste in Kyoya's sly mouth. But then again, this was business, and business was business, even the more dirty sort of business was business, and whatever Cossette decided to let that red eyed man do to her was her business, not Kyoya's. It was not Kyoya's business, whatever they were doing. So he tried not to think about it; but that was a rather hard task considering he knew how talented Cossette was…at her sort of business.

Kyoya stood at the back of the room, in the shadows more or less. He watched everything going on. He watched Hikaru talking to Haruhi, Kaoru sitting, motionless, looking quite shameful, Honey surrounded by women, Tamaki still passed out, and Mori, over there, behind the chair, his hands in his hair and his face downcast, so Kyoya wasn't sure what he was doing. Also, those two shady band members… the red haired one was sort of hovering around the unconscious Tamaki, and that other one, with the crazed smile, was taking mincing, calculating steps towards Hikaru and Haruhi. Kyoya raised an eyebrow; maybe bringing this bunch of idiots to his newest scheme wasn't the smartest idea he had had and really, he hadn't had much choice in the matter; it wasn't actually his idea to begin with. But shit happened and in the end it would all be wiped away. It always was. With the most costly and fanciest of toilet paper, of course.

He looked down at his watch, a rather nice watch it was, made of the finest silver. The hours were ticking away slowly for him, but surely much faster for his deranged companions. He wondered if he should go mingle with some of them, but the only thing that managed to catch his interest was the fact that his prized dancer was pleasuring… that strange man; he was quite hung up on it. Quite. Quite quite quite! Quite hung up on it, he was. And would be until that woman reappeared on the stage she was meant for.

The bespectacled man massaged his forehead. There was a headache threatening him, so he turned away from the bustle of his debauched business and headed for his office. He would have some tea, and maybe a little strawberry tart.

…

"So, you know, the toilette paper that they use at Black Lace tastes much better than other places…. I'm not sure why, but it just seems so much cleaner." The hobo outside the door of the Burlesque club announced excitedly, scratching his dandruff ridden hair luxuriously.

…

"Haruhi," he wasn't really exasperated, or at least, he was trying not to be, especially since she seemed more content than she had been all day. "Why… have you been so uptight?" he asked blatantly, unable to contain his question any longer; Hikaru had never been the most patient person.

"I'm not uptight," Haruhi said offhandedly, clearly uninterested in anything other than the food in front of her.

"Well, obviously, not now but… you were," Hikaru hedged, he wasn't about to let this go.

"I don't see the importance in that conversation," Haruhi mumbled around a mouthful of some sort of pastry.

"This morning, all afternoon, you were acting weird," now he was exasperated.

"Well, yeah, all of us were pretty hung-over, Hikaru." She glanced sideways at the older twin, who was looking off toward where his brother was still sitting, looking much more depressed than he had been a little bit ago, before Hikaru had gone over there… what was with Hikaru and raining on everyone's happy little parades?

Hikaru wasn't ruining Tamaki's parade however, because Tamaki was still asleep and was probably not going to wake up any time soon. At least not in the soon approaching minutes…. Hours perhaps; he wouldn't wake up soon.

Within the Depths of the Theatre of Tamaki's Mind (The very inner depths)

He had conquered all the troublesomes… all the troublesome levels! He had been the victor thus far, and the victor he would be in the end! When the last tread had been trod he would be the victor of this fantastical journey of courage, power, and wisdom. But of course, he was only a third of this equation, the fraction that held the particles of courage, because we all knew he couldn't be either of the latter… Tamaki was not powerful and we all knew he had not a shred of wisdom in the blond brain of his.

And now, in this moment, the epitome of the grand story, that courage would be extremely important, because he was in the last level, about to save the world and get the girl! He traversed the stairs, sinister music bouncing off the dark stone walls, music distinctly from an organ, but he hardly heard it – he was too busy trying not to trip, or stab himself with his own sword, to pay attention to much else. He came upon a chasm; the only way to get across would be to use his newly acquired item! So he whipped it out and began on this new treacherous path. He had to dodge many things on his way up, kill a few monsters, but he had done it all before and nothing could stop him from saving his little girl… the princess… Princess Haruhi.

And then he was there… The room was suspiciously dark and negligent of light, but the sound of the organ grew much louder at the entrance, and he knew that this was the right room, that... He was here. He could feel the darkness of his presence, like a thick fog, blanketing the room in the disgusting, cold substance of… evil.

He sat there at the organ, his white gloved hands dancing across the keys in a languid dance, like a ball room dance… no, it was much, much more sensual than that. His fingers brushing against the keys in the most suggestive of ways, his eyes closed as if in bliss of the low, moaning symphony the organ produced. Then, suddenly, those closed eyes opened to reveal the most penetrating shades of crimson Tamaki had ever looked upon, and those bloody things stared, straight at Tamaki, straight into his soul.

A smile, a smirk, a malicious curve of the lips, began to take presence on the sinister man's face, his onyx hair only adding to his malevolent visage.

His costume seemed rather contradictory to the rest of his dominative disposition. His outfit resembled that of a Victorian styled butler's uniform with the addition of a blood-red cape, the red matching that of the man's glistening, burgundy eyes. That cape. That cape of deepest red, seemed almost reminiscent of the nervous beating of Tamaki's heart, the blood rushing quickly through his veins, and he had the sickening feeling that he had been here before. He'd been here before, but the memory was not a pleasant one, but a memory of failure and woe. He was here for the princess but… oh yeah, the princess. THE PRINCESS! She was over there! But no, not in her chair! No she was in a giant CRYSTAL! But not just any crystal, I dare say, but a cylindrical, long, stiff, giant PINK ONE!...

"That's what she said." A mischievous voice in the distance, whispered, from far away, directly into Tamaki's ear, because that makes perfect sense.

So then, all of a sudden, suddenly, it was quite unexpected what happened next, that dark, mysterious man, clad in butter – and that was it – stepped from the shadows behind that huge organ and placed his sword, delicately, into the caped-man's gloved hands. The caped-man wrapped his fingers firmly around the hilt, causing the butter-man to moan in anticipation of was next to come… to come. TO COME TO COME TOCOME!

The gloved hand dove forward, gaining an excited squeal from the man of butter and a disgusted cry from Tamaki as he witnessed the happenings before him. Tamaki struck back with his own sword, the sword that seemed an attachment of himself. The butter man let out a pleased sigh as the stiff things hit together with a resounding clang.

"That will be enough of that," the man with the blood-red cape proclaimed, then quickly took the head off the butter-man, and the butter-man slumped to the ground, but not without letting out a spew of warmth from his severed stem and a hysterical cry of climax from his mouth.

That terrible smile, the one on that severed head's face, grew to an enormous size as the head began bouncing about on the floor, mopping up its own blood with its lolling tongue and mane of silver tangles.

"What a nuisance." The butler-man murmured, more to himself than anyone else, as his sword ground against Tamaki's, his strength unyielding.

A drop of sweat glided down Tamaki's face, his body bending backward at the brute force of the man pushing above him. The man above him smirked once again, his ruby eyes locking with Tamaki's violet ones. No strain, no trouble showed on the butler-like man as he pushed down, even harder.

"You cannot win. The princess is mine… for I am the embodiment of power, oh courageous hero." The man said, his nose only inches from Tamaki's, his breath fiery and had the distinct fragrance of roses. Tamaki stared at the man's lips, so pale and thin, his teeth so sharp and unnaturally white. Then a tongue sprung from behind those pale lips, a tongue that was bright red, as if the man's last meal had been blood, and Tamaki didn't doubt it; before Tamaki could even react, that snake-like tongue was on his neck, licking a wet trail up to his cheek.

"You fiend!" Tamaki shrieked, "Only the princess has permission to touch me in such a sensual way!" If only Tamaki had kept his mouth shut, kept more attention on the trouble at hand, maybe he wouldn't have fallen to the ground.

"You pitiful human, so distracted by perverse thoughts, such an easy being to prey upon," the cloaked figure ran a long-fingered hand through his own hair, effectively revealing to Tamaki the rapist's-sneer forming on his lips.

"Why do you spare me?" Tamaki asked, bewildered as the man threw his sword aside, the blade landing spot on between the butter-man's non-existing breasts.

"I only spare your life, because I need you alive to commence my true desires." The man said, crouching then so he could be level with Tamaki's eyes.

Tamaki knew who this man was. He'd seen him before. He was… Sebastian.

"You demon!" Tamaki squealed, most un-heroically as Sebastian neared closer, and closer still.

Sebastian scoffed, "Yes. That is quite a true statement."

"Where is she?! Where is the Princess Haruhi!?" Tamaki wailed, flinging his arms about wildly, effectively doing absolutely and positively nothing.

"Over there," Sebastian spoke calmly, dodging Tamaki's appendages with ease. "Behind her chair, in that Pink crystal I ordered from Victoria's Secret, just for this superb occasion," he explained, then grabbed Tamaki's limbs and pinioned them above that golden head of his. "In fact, I even purchased a costume from there for her… I'm hoping she'll wear it tonight… Once I've finished with you, of course." He went on, smiling pleasurably, gazing upon Tamaki hungrily.

"W-what?" Was all Tamaki managed to squeak out before Sebastian's pale lips crashed into his. He struggled of course, because that was only proper (in his mind), since he was male and this Sebastian was also decidedly male, but somehow, he couldn't find it in himself to dislike what was happening; which disgusted him.

But then… that hideous tongue! What was it doing? Slithering… around in his cavern of a mouth, like some possessed eel! Revolting, and yet, somewhat sweet… the taste anyway. The taste of that gruesome tongue was like that of nectar of the gods, calming and delicious and soooooo… WHAT WAS HE THINKING?! GOD!?

Tamaki tried, unsuccessfully, to push the appealing mongrel off him, but his attempt at refusal only seemed to excite the domineering man all the more, his tongue delving even further down Tamaki's succulent gullet. Tamaki let out a rather feminine moan at this, he just couldn't seem to stop himself.

Sebastian's hands… they were… traveling to a certain… JESUS CHRIST!

Tamaki promptly bit down on that silky tongue. However, this didn't quite have the effect that Tamaki anticipated. Sebastian did pull away, removing his mouth from Tamaki's and smacked his lips together in speculation.

"Hmm," he mused to himself, licking his lips, then casting a consuming gaze upon Tamaki's flushed face. "How shall I retaliate?" he asked redundantly; having no intention of letting Tamaki get a word in edge-wise. "You know, my dear one, I was intending on saving those clothes for the princess… but I can't help but find myself imagining what they would like on you…" his lips curled up and a half-crazed hiccupy laugh escaped those lips, red from his own blood.

Then, spindly hands reached for Tamaki's pants and just as they were slipping down…

"Damn these retched buttons! GAH!" Grell, not that devilish Sebastian, squealed from the direction of Tamaki's crotch.

Tamaki jumped up from his sleeping position on the couch… it had been a dream… That makes sense, who the hell wears butter and nothing else?

"Get away from the king!" Tamaki bellowed girlishly.

"Oh yes, and what a king you are!" Grell drolled, still working at Tamaki's buttons, not ready to give up yet. "You should tell me about that dream you were having…" the red-haired man glanced up from his work. "A nice one, was it?" he asked, a mischievous little smile forming on his… blood-red lips!

"God have mercy on me! Buddha forgive me! Tom Cruise, I'm sorry!" Tamaki cried shrilly, as he realized the magnitude of the sins his mind had just waltzed through, and he hobbled away from Grell's prying little fingers, in the direction of… anywhere but this goddamned couch! Not only had he subconsciously allowed Grell to kiss him, but he replaced Grell's image with… Sebastian. He had this strange bulge in his pants from imagining himself KISSING Sebastian, that devil man! Why couldn't he have just pretended it was Haruhi? Or Angelina Jolie even? Park Shinhye? Sunako Nakahara!? Bill Kaulitz!?... wait…

"AHHHH!" Tamaki screamed in agony gripping fistfuls of his own hair and banging his head against the next hard surface he made contact with. And then he was on the floor, drifting off into that dark oblivion of his own mind again… right where that awful-tongued man had left off…

…

He opened his deep, russet eyes, his eyelashes fluttering as he, once again, took in the dimness of the room and the emptiness of the bed he lay in. He smiled to himself, licking his lips. She had been just as delicious as he had imagined. He replayed the moments in his head, remembering her terrified expression as he changed form, above her. Remembered the wonderful shape her lips became before she screamed… but he hadn't allowed her to scream. He tore her throat out before she could do that; that delicate throat, a treat in and of itself. And he had slit it so cleanly, so beautifully, nothing had been wasted; he made sure of that. No piece of that gorgeous woman was left in this world.

He rose from the bed, stretching luxuriously, his knotted muscles flexing beautifully. He retrieved his, perfectly folded, clothes from the side table and, skillfully, put them on.

He would have to leave soon. People would get suspicious if Elle didn't return soon after he did. He would have to retire before the rest of them… But the man with the glasses, the one that seemed so in charge, the one that Sebastian knew owned this pristine burlesque club, that Kyoya... what would Sebastian do about him? He knew Kyoya wouldn't be one to let a matter like one of his girls disappearing slide easily. Sebastian would have to take care of him. But how?

"You're quite proud of yourself, aren't you?" Ciel's lilting voice came to him from the shadowy corners of the room. "I thought you only wanted my soul?"

"You've become much more conceited since you've turned, haven't you, Master?" Sebastian asked casually, pulling his pants up shamelessly.

"Sebastian. We signed a contract, you're only to thirst for my soul." Ciel hissed, and jumped up onto the bed, his whiskers trembling, his tail slack.

"You're a demon, Master, you have no soul," Sebastian replied offhandedly, as if he couldn't care less about the conversation they were having, as if he didn't care that he was talking to Ciel at all.

"Sebastian," Ciel growled, his cat eyes angry slits, "Soul or not, I am your Master, and you shall do as I say. You are never to eat another person's soul unless I permit it… That's an order."

Sebastian tensed, buttoning the last button of his shirt, slipping his gloves on. He took in a deep breath, "Yes, Master." Sebastian's voice was low and rumbled with anger.

And that was that.

…

Mori had followed Kyoya at a distance, and had waited a time outside Kyoya's office door for the bespectacled man to get comfortable. Then he knocked, tentatively, at the door.

"Enter," Kyoya spoke, his voice resounding with agitation.

And Mori entered, "May I have a minute?" he asked softly from just inside the doorway.

"Of course," Kyoya spoke quickly, and put down the pen he had been using.

"I want to leave," Mori said, getting straight to the point, he had never been one that was good at beating around the bush.

Kyoya watched Mori for a moment, his face blank of expression, then he slowly pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and smiled softly at the big man.

"I'm sorry Mori, but I'm afraid you can't leave," his voice was resigned, announcing that this was the end of the conversation, but Mori hadn't caught that.

"What?" the big man asked, his voice a bit tighter than usual.

"You can't leave, nobody can," Kyoya answered flippantly. "Until the game is over, no one can leave Black Lace."

"What game?" Mori squinted his dark eyes at his friend.

"Why, the game of granting wishes," Kyoya smiled coyly. "Granting all of your inner-desires, my friend: The Game of Truth," now the bespectacled man's smile was a little less coy and a little more frightening, but Mori didn't back away or cringe with fear, he straightened his broad shoulders and glared Kyoya in the eye.

"How do you play?" he asked, suspicion coating his words.

…

Ciel laughed as Sebastian reached for the door's handle, about to leave the room. Sebastian paused, glancing back at his master.

"You'll never be able to leave." Ciel said, a sly smile quirking his whiskers knowingly.


	11. Terrible Poetry

"I've been constipated for days…" the hobo outside the mysterious burlesque club chirped happily as he rounded the corner, his eyes peering up at the Burlesque club's sign, a leering look in his eyes.

…

"How did this happen?" Kaoru wondered out loud, looking down at his crotch. The girls were currently preoccupied with gossiping and had pretty much lost interest in him when he had stopped putting on such a show. "I must've peed a lot," he continues, running a finger along his own zipper. "That's the only explanation that makes sense," he nodded to himself.

"I think they'd feel a lot softer if they weren't filled with silicone," he heard one of the girls say, and he looked up to see the one who had spoken – the brunette – peeking into her own bra.

"Oh, ladies, please, I'll be the judge of that." A blond boy with big, leering, brown eyes spoke, his voice a low growl.

"Honey… senpai?" Kaoru voiced as he stared at his, once sweet, elder who had appeared to have grown quite a few inches… in several places.

"No, call me Jane," the brown-eyed-once-Honey-senpai spoke with utmost calm and sincerity.

"J-jane?" Kaoru stared blankly, confused, very confused, and maybe a little confused. He decided to blame Honey's stupidity on the fact that Honey probably had no idea about the difference between English male and female names… he had been a little lax in his studies of American culture. He was probably also a little drunk, to say the least.

The girls around Honey and Kaoru began to giggle uncontrollably, falling over, their silicone implanted breasts bouncing and their rumps giggling along with their robust laughter. (Taine, you may want to visit this Burlesque club).

"Yes," Honey said slowly, posing with one hand to his chin – a very Tamaki-like pose. "Jane," he finished, winking slyly.

"I knew a woman by the name of Jane once… She was delicious." A dark voice said from behind the sofa, two gloved hands cupping Kaoru's shoulders suddenly.

"What? Did she have a magic vagina or something?" Call-me-Jane said, shoving a hand into his pocket, the pocket on his pants. (You just had to make sure we all know it's not his breast pocket… which is where I wanted him to shove his hand…:[ )

"That too." Sebastian replied, his hands slowly sliding down towards Kaoru's collarbone, his arms slowly encircling around Kaoru's elegant neck.

"Um…" Kaoru squeaked as Sebastian's arms began a slow constriction, encircling the red-head's slim and pliable neck in a tighter hold. "Sebastian, I'm a fan, you know, your biggest fan in fact, but this… is this… some kind of special treatment? Because I'd be ok with just admiring you and not being choked by you, if that's ok?" his voice ended on a slightly more strangled note.

Sebastian abruptly stopped what he was doing and stood up straight once again. "My deepest and most regretest apologies," and then he walked off, seeming to be in some sort of daze. And he probably was. Indeed. Talking to Ciel had that effect on people.

So Kaoru sat there, wondering to himself what exactly had just happened and what exactly was happening. Hikaru had been mad at him, Honey wanted to be called Jane, and his most loved singer of all time had just about strangled him… the night had been proving to be quite strange. The strangest of nights. Absolutely absurd. Positively ludicrous this night was becoming.

Poop had always been Grell's least favorite thing, because poop is brown, and Grell's least favorite color is brown. It also just so happened that Haruhi's hair is as brown as they come. That's probably why Grell had begun sneaking up behind her with a pair of barber's scissors and had every intention of using them… if Hikaru hadn't seen him that is. BOOBIES!

"Hi Hikaru…" Haruhi was saying as Grell continued his sneaking, bypassing the Undertaker on his way – who was still taking mincing, calculated steps toward the still gorging Haruhi. "I have two boobies, how about you?" Haruhi mumbled, around a mouthful of some questionable slushy substance – probably something alcoholic, seeing as how she was apparently already slobbering drunk. Slobbering everywhere.

"I don't have boobs," Hikaru replied. "Here's another bucket, hold it under your chin," he spoke as he positioned a bucket on Haruhi's lap, which she promptly began slobbering in.

"You're such a liar… everyone… everybody has boobs sooomewhere." Haruhi replied, most of her slushy treat falling out of her mouth.

So Grell finally made it to the back of Haruhi's head. Then Hikaru saw him. Then hell was unleashed. In the form of butter.

Hikaru had been in the process of retrieving a bowl of melted butter for Haruhi's crab, when he noticed Grell, leaning over the beautiful Haruhi – who wasn't so beautiful at the moment because she was slobbering uncontrollably and stuffing her face with whatever she could reach, including Hikaru's hand. But he liked that, oddly enough, especially since she was mainly just licking it, and nibbling on it from time to time. Hikaru's cheeks managed to turn fifty shades of red – it resembled that of a quilt on his face, patches of differing shades of red neatly arranged across his otherwise pale cheeks. Anyway, he was retrieving the butter. Then he saw Grell. He saw him like three times by then. So, he threw that bowl of butter, which he had retrieved like three times by then.

"Oh damn!" Grell yelled as he stumbled backwards, dropping the scissors soon after, before he fell to the floor, landing right on his giggling rump. Not like it would have really mattered if he had cut Haruhi's hair or not, seeing as how she was still wearing her boy wig.

Haruhi was unaffected by this little scuffle, she was too engrossed in sucking at Hikaru's long, sturdy fingers, mostly because they had the distinct taste of… butter. Haruhi like butter… (and we meant to leave the d off of "like", so suck it… your stick of butter… it's probably in the fridge).

(People are probably going to think, we're like, psycho… the things we write… you know, I really like having dreams where I'm like… Tarzan.)

(that's a good song… By Wonder Boyz.)

(You're stupid)

(You're dumb)

"I do believe my outfit is ruined!" Grell cried in anguish, even though his outfit was hardly an outfit at all, it was just a bunch of red frilly things over… certain areas.

At that moment, the Undertaker had finally traversed his calculative way across the room, and promptly fell on top of Grell. Because, even though he had been taking mincing little steps, and even though he had been calculating the distance, he really hadn't been paying any attention at all as to where he was going… well, obviously, he was going toward Haruhi, but he had failed to add Grell into the equation. ANYWAY.

Meanwhile, in Kyoya's office, at Kyoya's desk, in Kyoya's chair, sat Kyoya, still discussing certain matters with the strong and silent type of Mori.

"So, how do we… get the others to play?" Mori asked after Kyoya had explained the game in full, which still didn't make much sense to the big man.

(Nothing interesting is happening! In this Godforsaken story!)

"Oh, don't worry, they'll be here soon," a haunting voice spoke from a shadowy corner of the room, and from that dark corner sprung a dark furred cat with strikingly blue eyes. "Just as soon as I cast this terrible spell!" the cat spoke cheerily as it sprang onto Kyoya's desk. "Actually, half of it has already been cast… as soon as you seven humans walked past that enchanted curtain! The spell was put into motion," the little black cat turned to Kyoya, a frightening gleam in his right eye. "Kyoya, I will complete the seal now, dim the lights," and Kyoya promptly did what he was told, though stiffly.

Mori felt somewhat glued to the spot of floor he was currently standing on. He couldn't move. Then, thunderously, that little cat began to speak… the terrible words of the spell rumbling forth from his gaping maw. And that spell… spilling from his orifice, was absolutely terrible.

"The desires of your heart,

They are as powerful as a fart,

They sing in your blood,

Like a cow chewing its cud,

Desires burn like fires,

And sometimes speak like liars,

They are a constant whisper,

Beware, they blister."

The cat paused to take in a breath, then continued on with his raucous litany.

"I am so sad,

My T.O.P

Is going to the military,

I cry and my tears are salty,

My T.O.P

Is going to the military,

He'll be back in two years,

My T.O.P

Is going to the military,

Oh T.O.P

Come back to me,

Don't go to the military.

This is a message from your GD3

Oh T.O.P

Pretty please,

Come back to me!"

The cat stopped and took a shuddering breath, as if trying to gain some composure.

"Excuse me, I don't know what foul beast just possessed me… I have no idea who this T.O.P and this GD are," he coughed. "I'll continue."

But just when he was about to say more, the door to Kyoya's office suddenly flew open, and the rest of hosts and the Butler band members all tumbled into the room.

"Ah, shit. I didn't get to finish, but oh well! Let the games begin!" and with a poof of purple smoke, the cat disappeared.

"What, wait, what?" Hikaru asked, cradling Haruhi against him. She was still in her somewhat overindulged state of confusion, still under the impression that Hikaru's fingers where never-melting sticks of delicious butter.

"Welcome," Kyoya spoke. "To the game of granting wishes. Allow me to tell you all how this game works…"

And his melodious voice carried on, explaining the intricate details of this terrible game. However, the only rule anybody actually remembered was this:

Do whatever you please.


	12. It was Almost Nasty

"So, all we have to do… is walk through that door, and we get anything we want?" Call-me-Jane asked of the all-knowing Kyoya.

"In a sense, yes," Kyoya drawled.

And that's all it took. Grell bounded gleefully to the door, squealing in utter delight at the thought of getting what he most longed for… "Ooooh! Come to Mama!" Grell cried as he raced to the door.

"So… I guess Grell's going first?"

And whoever said that was right. Because Grell flung the door wide then proceeded to slam it behind himself.

…

In the middle of the room, there was a chair. It wasn't the normal kind of chair. It was the nasty kind of chair. The kind that had torture written all over it – quite literally… and metaphorically. It had restraints, restricting bands on the arms rests and the legs… the front ones. Not to mention the lovely little head piece connected to the backrest. And that was about it…. Besides all the random wires surrounding it.

The chair wasn't the only thing the room held. There was a wall covered in shiny, sharp things, gleaming in the florescent lighting. The thing that really caught Grell's ogling attention was the tray of syringes, scalpels, and many other things resembling larger spoons and forks; although, they were much more sinister than the normal eating utensil. To make creepy matters even better, the entire room was completely white – the walls, the floors, the ceiling – which meant that Grell could paint it all. Red, of course. Red with blood! Whose blood, he did not know, but he'd soon fix that. All he'd need to do is go through the door across from him, a rather ominous door.

The door stood lonely in one pure, white wall. A perfect rectangle of steely gray, the one window it contained was slightly fogged, making it impossible to see through very well. But what he did see was a blur of brownish hair bobbing up and down, as if whoever it was, was trying to see through the foggy window as well.

Without further ado, Grell hurriedly marched over to the door, noticing for the first time that he was also outfitted in purest white… how nice. He couldn't wait to dye that sickeningly dead color with the weeping life of one's heart. (UNTIL THE LIFE-JUICE WEEPS!) He flung the door wide, revealing the lovely little Haruhi pushing an operating table, atop which lay a motionless Sebastian. His eyes closed in the most delicious of ways, his lips parted just a smidgen in the clutches of unconsciousness, and – Grell noticed with a feverish sigh – Sebastian's pristine body was hidden beneath the thinness of a hospital gown. How nice.

"Oh Bassy," Grell breathed, pressing his fisted hand to his own breast, the breast in which his heart beat in a furious litany. "What a mess I'll make of you…" a chuckle escaped him.

"Wow," Haruhi suddenly broke the trance Grell was so caught up in. "I never would've pegged you for the doctor type, Grell," her face was completely indifferent, and completely unsuspecting of Grell's true intentions.

"Oh yes… I absolutely adore playing doctor!" Grell declared as he theatrically threw his arms about in several different directions until they met with his forehead.

"Oh…" Haruhi said. "I get it… Is there anything to eat here?"

"You can have your fill of me," came a stony cold voice from the operating table. "I assume I won't be much more than slabs of meat in a few moments…" Sebastian spoke calmly, seeming completely at ease with his fate, perhaps even a little eager.

"Let's get started!"

(What're we gonna do? We can't have four pages of Grell dissecting Sebastian…)

(LEMON!... I doubt the fans would mind four pages of that;P)

"Nipple, nipple, nipple, nipplenipplenipple! NIPPLES! Two of 'em!" came the crazed voice of Grell as he snatched a scalpel from the tray and promptly sliced open the front of Sebastian's hospital gown… all the way to his navel! (yeah that's right, no lower than that!)

A small trickle of black blood oozed from between Sebastian's perfectly sculpted pectorals, where Grell's hand had been a little to firmly placed (a little too excited). Grell watched as the pungent, inky liquid flowed forth, his eyes rising to Sebastian's face, who seemed, oddly enough, to be enjoying the feeling of the blood leaving his body.

"How strange…" Sebastian mewled, and his fervent eyes shot open at the sound of his own voice.

"Is there really no food here? I thought we were supposed to get all our inner desires or something… I miss my sticks of unending butter…" Haruhi sagged a bit where she stood, then walked slowly to the door and left the room, going to search for food.

"Heh, heh, heh… Now we're finally allllone!" Grell all but moaned, advancing towards his prey once again, his tongue running along the slender length of the bloody scalpel. "Oh!" Grell suddenly pulled away from his treat. "I seem to have slit my tongue…" but that didn't faze him, he didn't even quit smiling, or put the sharp object down… "If it's this good cold…" He started, taking yet another lick of the blade, his eyes trailing along the cut he'd made on Sebastian's pale, defined torso, "…I wonder what it tastes like fresh?" He questioned the room.

Grell's yellow-green eyes blazed as he eyed Sebastian, hunger giving his face a lusty gleam. He licked his pale lips, his crazed smile revealing his pointed pearls, he brandished the small blade in his hand like it was a rare flower, so delicate that only one petal remained, one, silvery red petal… He took graceful steps toward his waiting patient, Sebastian's eyes staring interestedly, a glaze of intoxication filming his awaiting gaze.

"What have you done to me?" Sebastian groaned from his position on the hard, cold table, his arms and abdomen flexing as he tried to escape the bonds that held him captive, another moan ripping through him as he failed to rid himself of imprisonment.

(Kyaaaaa~)

(*nose bleed*)

"Ohhh, Bassy! You excite me!" Grell crooned, leaning over Sebastian's reclined form, yellow-green eyes roving over the exposed, pale flesh of Sebastian's chest, that one inky-red line obscuring the pureness of perfection. Sebastian's breaths started to become labored as Grell neared closer, and closer still. Sebastian's muscled pectorals rose and fell irregularly, his nipples erect from the chillness of the room and the fact that his body was so sparingly clothed.

Grell hovered just above that line of darkness, breathing in the scent that was so completely Sebastian. Then he rose, a grin just barely marring his pleased face as he continued to gaze upon the masterpiece in front of him. Then his cloying eyes turned to the flower in his grasp, and brought a finger to the still bloody blade. Once his finger was bathed in that rosy hue, he leaned back over Sebastian's bothered body, and began an art that was so wholly its own: he began to paint Sebastian's lips with the bold color. Grell's smile jerked higher up his face as he felt Sebastian's trembling lips against his sticky digit.

"Oh yes…" Grell sighed, as the life-juice dripped past Sebastian's quivering lips, seeping between his pristine teeth.

Then, all at once, it was too much for Grell to stand (so he fell); he hovered over Sebastian's heated features, his dark, red-ish eyes gleaming in inquiry, as if he truly did not know what was next to come… but desperately wanted to. Then Grell closed the space. Lips on bloody lips. A delicate press of flesh on flesh. And it seemed over too soon, when Grell suddenly pulled away, breaking the kiss, and caused Sebastian to gasp in surprise.

"Shall I use tongue?" Grell asked, but didn't expect an answer.

The red-haired man chuckled in his throat, reveling in his complete control of the situation, and when Sebastian's glazed eyes sought his, searching for an answer, Grell closed the space once again and this time had no intention of pulling away anytime soon.

Their lips meshed. The taste of blood lingered just inside Sebastian's hot cavern of a mouth. Their breath interrupted the slippery exchange, gasps of sensuous pleasure, as Grell's tongue made play of Sebastian's upper lip, teasing the flesh. Then they became a dance, their tongues creating the steps, twirling softly, and discovering… Then Grell got too excited and bit Sebastian's tongue, gaining a pleasured cry from the man underneath him. Grell quite liked the way that muddled sound ringed about his ears, so he did it again, his teeth grazing the pink muscle roughly, his lips soon taking place of his sharp teeth. It was obvious Sebastian did not fully agree with where this was going, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation as he was so clearly becoming the uke of this entire situation.

"Watch me, won't you Bassy?" Grell spoke as he pulled away from the thoroughly intoxicated, breathy Sebastian.

The red-haired man promptly began his strip tease. First went the buttons of his shirt, one at a time, they each came undone, and Sebastian was entranced by each movement of the effeminate figure in front of him – though he didn't quite know why… in fact this whole hot-and-bothered state he was in wasn't quite believable, but it didn't change the fact that he was… Hot and bothered… In a certain place.

"I like your tent," Grell murmured as he flung his shirt to a forgotten corner of the still spotless white room. His fingers, slowly, began their decent downwards, grabbing hold of his belt, a suggestive jingle transmitted from the metal buckle, as he eyed Sebastian's 'tent.' Grell never quite got around to removing his pants… the cold feel of metal in his hand suddenly sparked that maniac deep within him, and he was wheeling Sebastian's operating table over to the sadistic chair before he quite knew what he was doing.

Then the bonds had to go. And he obviously didn't think this plan through, and once Sebastian was free, the mistake was obvious. Sebastian leapt from the table in all his partially clothed glory, and stood in front of his ex-captor. He was quite a bit taller than Grell and not to mention there was no match when it came to the strength Sebastian so marvelously possessed. An evil, calculating smirk ran across the expanse of Sebastian's miraculously sculpted visage. Perhaps if Grell's back hadn't been facing the chair, he would not have so easily fallen prey to the approaching activities.

Once Grell was safely secured in the chair, Sebastian went to work…

"Well, that doesn't look comfortable," Sebastian remarked, eying the encaged bulge residing in Grell's black pants, just beyond the zipper.

Sebastian didn't know what had come over him, he didn't know why he had such an undying interest in… playing with this revolting man, but it did not change the fact at how desperately he now desired him. So desperately that he really had no idea how he ended up leaning down, positioning one hand on Grell's knee, the other on Grell's cheek. And Grell was quite the wiggling specimen…

"No! Oh, no! Unhand me, Bassy! I am the master here! I'm supposed to be raping you, not the other way around!"

But Sebastian didn't heed these words, he was too busy following a set of rules drilled into him, thrust into his subconscious, rules that he had to follow. So he gripped Grell's chin and forcefully tilted his head to the side, exposing more of that succulently pale neck. Sebastian's eyes fixated on that major vein pulsating in that splendid neck. He brought his lips down, kissing then tasting the skin above that excited vein with his explorative tongue. Simply tasting Grell's skin, however, was not nearly enough for Sebastian, his teeth soon came into play, penetrated the delicate skin and sunk deep within. The flow of red life was plentiful and delicious.

(I want more!)

(You nasteh bitch…)

"Eh-ho!" Grell cried out in anguish. "Oh Bassy, you wound me!"

Sebastian dipped a finger in the blood still spilling from Grell's neck and began painting an intricate design on Grell's chest. A pentagram, one identical to the black tattoo on the back of his hand.

"Now you are truly mine," Sebastian droned.

"Hmm… Why don't you turn around…" Grell began, remembering the fact that Sebastian was only wearing a hospital gown, and therefore, quite revealed in the back. "And sit down in daddy's lap… but unzip me first." Grell said, hoping for the best, that his wishes would be met. That he could cut right through that rock hard ass with his rock hard cock.

(Penis, penis, penis, penis, penis)

"Shut the fuck up!" Sebastian squealed, most unlike himself, completely OOC.

"I have no fuck up to shut!" Grell squealed right back.

"I'm painting here; it's of the mostest importance! Also, it's rather moist and I like it," Sebastian then proceeded to lick his fingers, because he seemingly forgot he needed them for painting; also, the pentagram was finished.

Sebastian then cleared his throat, returning to his once sensual nature. He took his wet finger, moist with his own saliva, and ran it right down the middle of his masterpiece… and while looking at his own masterpiece, he decided to become the master of himself and he thus commenced masturbation. Right in front of Grell, whose cheeks blossomed with a red as deep as his hair.

"You know…" Sebastian began, his voice nothing more than a gasping mess (like a fish out of water!), "I've always wondered… about you… do the curtains match the drapes?"

"AH!" Grell squawked in utmost pleasure, he had always wanted a question of this magnitude directed at him, and the scene playing out before him was all too splendiferous for him to conjure up actual speech, until Grell realized that the action was only one sided… "Oh God have mercy and unzip my pants! AND SIT ON ME!"

Sebastian smirked, in no way about to give in to Grell's wishes. No, Sebastian was the master here. Not this mere reaper.

"Oh… I'll unzip your pants… But, I…am… the… master!" Sebastian jerked, quite harshly at his own member, spurting a trail of white goo straight on to Grell's face… But Sebastian was anything but finished with him.

Within the pureness of the white room, many a different thing happened.

Grell's peering eyes couldn't help but concentrate on the rather stringy strand of goo hanging from his glasses as it dangled dangerously.

"What a mess I've made of you. But it's hardly over." Sebastian growled sensually as he began to untie the string holding his gown to him. With one good tug, the blue cloth fell to the floor, only to reveal the treasure underneath. Sebastian was no weakling, no, he was very muscular, very lean and very fit. His body was so perfectly sculpted, so magnanimously kept, not a single soul could find his glowing form unattractive. Grell stared, unable to blink in that moment of unveiling. His eyes scanned slowly down that immaculate body. Starting at his glorious collar bone, down the succulent curve of his chest, running past the enticing dip of his abs and, for a moment, pausing at the place just below, the place that had shot him… right in the face. Grell tingled all over, the warmth all in his face, the blood that colored his cheeks, ran to another place on him… a place, much lower.

"My my… And I thought it wasn't possible for those pants to get any more tight on you." Sebastian purred as he took small, menacing steps closer to the confined, aroused man.

The fierce look in Sebastian's glowing eyes, the evil smirk darkening his features caused Grell to struggle against his confines for a moment, his voice sounding off in a high piggish squeal.

"You know, I always did like how cat-like your eyes are… and your fangs." Sebastian gasped in awe as he parted Grells lips with his slender fingers, getting a better look at those 'fangs.'

And then they were kissing! With tongue! AGAIN!

(Penispenispenis)

…

So, back in Kyoya's office. Behind Kyoya's desk, in Kyoya's chair sat Kyoya, all regal and majestic-like, just how Kyoya's always are. He wasn't at all surprised when Grell and Sebastian tumbled through his doorway, no worse for wear and completely clothed.

"What!?" Grell squawked from the floor. "We didn't even do the nasty! The dirty! SEX!?" he was rolling around on the floor now, clearly hysterical.

"Well," Kyoya began, pushing his spectacles up the fine bridge of his illustrious schnozzle. "That's what happens when someone is 'killed' in the dream-scape."

"Oh Bassy! You dreadful thing! So violent! Taking my heart from my chest," spoke Grell from the floor, holding himself – as Grell is oft to do. "So forceful! And that moment when it beat in your cold hand… oh god! Oh Sebastian! Drag me to hell!" Grell pleaded, reaching for the raven-haired man's crotch.

"Loathsome creature…" Sebastian drawled and whacked Grell's twitching hand away.

"Who's next?" Kyoya sighed in indifference.

"I'll go," Mori promptly volunteered, and stepped forward.


	13. Quite a Desire

It was the past brought to life. The garish pink tile just as he remembered it: pink and garish. The opalescent windows filled with the brightness of sunlight, the streaming rays of gold warming his chiseled façade, in the most pleasant of ways. He closed his slanted eyes against the honey-toned gleam falling all around him, the gleam that made the garish pink floors shine magnificently.

And there they all were, sitting on that clashingly red velvet couch, like red velvet cake only you can't eat it. Just like the couch, red-velvet-that's-not-edible, there stood Haruhi, the girl with eyes of warm chocolate and hair about the same color, the unattainable, un-edible girl. (Actually, everyone is edible, but that is called cannibalism. Mori is not a cannibal.) She stood pristinely, next to those opalescent windows, the peachy light painting her soft with its caressing glow.

"Why is no one here, boss?" Kaoru asked from atop the velvety couch, where he sat atop his velvety skinned brother, his arms wrapped around the elegance of his brother's swan-like neck. They were quite entangled.

"That's probably because this is Mori's inner desires… and apparently he doesn't like girls very much." Kyoya said indifferently, a small, fake smile on his face as he also sat atop the velvet couch; however, his rump was comfortably situated in the plentiful lap of Tamaki Suoh: Kyoya's bitch.

"Oh don't be silly, of course Mori likes girls…" Tamaki spoke with utmost cheer, peeking around Kyoya's bony shoulder; he shifted – almost uncomfortably – beneath Kyoya's skeletal ass, where the bounty of Tamaki's plentiful 'lap' resided, beneath that skeletal ass. Kyoya shifted as well.

"Oh, be quiet you noisy piece of sexy shit," Kyoya said with a soft chuckle, the tone of his pristine vocals sounding all too fond and completely gentle in their reverberance, quite a contrast from his appearance, which was rather disturbing seeing as how he was little more than skin and bones…. And boner… wait, no, that was Tamaki.

"Oh mama, boss me more!" Tamaki cried in submission, as Kyoya grabbed hold of Tamaki's joystick and gave it a little tug.

"Oh look! Two strawberries, one for each of us!" Mori heard the pubescent exclamation of Mitsukini.

Mori's piercing eyes fell on the small, sunny-haired boy across the room who stuffed a strawberry into the mouth of a very much alive and fluffy Usa-chan. A fond smile spread across the contours of the giant's suddenly gentle face, which he noticed felt quite covered… One of his big hands (he wasn't even sure which hand) curiously explored the covered contours of his own face, and he found that it was wrapped quite like a mummy.

"Oh mama-eff! Tickle my tit and play with my dick!" Tamaki gave a jubilant and somewhat desperate roar from behind Kyoya's very much unaffected self. Except, Tamaki was no longer behind Kyoya at all, because Kyoya had somehow, in the time that Mori was turned away, managed to turn completely around in Tamaki's mammoth 'lap'. Mori's cheeks blushed prettily as he gawked at the scene in front of him. Surely this wasn't part of his inner desires?

"Oh Kaoru!" Hikaru exclaimed, drawing Mori's attention to the devilish twins immediately.

No, surely not… Not Mori's desires… to see… his friends…all in love with each other and acting on it! He had always expected Tamaki and Kyoya to have some sort of secret affair going on behind closed doors… And the twins were always playing up the incest thing, but he had always suspected it wasn't just acting… and Honey. Oh dear little Honey, his Mistukini! Why wasn't Mori the one being fed strawberries?

The gentle and somewhat disgusted giant turned his dark gaze, once again, to the small boy across the room… and what he saw… Oh god.

A taboo. A small boy and his bunny… getting it on!

So, as the sounds of moans filled that passionate, pink room, Mori forced his gaze to the window, where Haruhi stood idly, the only person, aside from himself that wasn't in a fervent mess of… things.

Then, suddenly, quite unexpectedly, and also a little suddenly, the light in that brilliantly lit room faded to a ghostly hue. The sun said goodbye, and the moon rose way up high, its face the color of odious blood, a cliché raining down on everything the moon's light happened to touch, to caress.

"Ha-hoo-hee!" Mori exclaimed.

"It's happening," Hikaru said seriously from Mori's side. Actually, all the boys were by his side now and Mori couldn't help but notice how completely naked their upper halves were, their abs glistening in the sparse light. So, why was Mori's inner desire for them all to have abs? except for Kyoya… who was all ribs and other odd angles.

"You're right, oh-obvious-one. Good thing Mori taught us all his skills of amazingness… that's why we all have abs!"

And whoever said that was right.

"The blood moon wanes!" Nekosawa-san screeched from nowhere in particular. He wasn't wearing his black hood either, his top half was also quite void of clothes. His abs were probably the best of all… with how things were going Mori wouldn't be too surprised if Haruhi were to…. Haruhi was in only a bra and shorts and her breasts were… Huge. Ginormous. Bouncing, all over the place, until they popped …

"Wow, for a second there I thought those were real," Hikaru mused.

"Me too," Kaoru conceded.

"Oh come on guys, you know it was too good to be true anyways," Haruhi remarked absently as she tried to adjust the now very much saggy top that no longer succeeded in covering her tits, because that's really all she had, not a sack of fat underneath the ta-tas at all! She was quite boy-like in her bodily physique you see.

"Somehow, I'm not even aroused," Kyoya replied idly, pushing his glasses up the sharp bridge of his nose with his bony finger. He seemed to be deteriorating as time went by. Soon he really would be just a pile of bones.

"Duh, you like dick," Tamaki mused quite happily. "I have a dick!"

"The blood! Of the moon! It wa~~~~nesu! MOSHI MOSHI!" Nekosawa fell down, somewhere in the room, and rolled around on the floor, somewhere in the room, but nobody looked around to see exactly where he was. Not that it mattered.

Mori sauntered over to the big windows and peered out into the sudden night. The once beautiful cherry blossoms were painted a deadly shade and all else was shadow and red. Then there came a rather abrupt banging on the door of the music room, a raucous, angry sort of banging, knuckles falling fiercely onto lacquered wood.

"What's that?" Kaoru asked his twin worriedly while grabbing Hikaru's bulging bicep.

"It's them," Nekosawa-san announced seriously, his fingers twitching anxiously.

"Who?" Hikaru asked touching his twin's hand that held onto him fondly.

"The THEM!" Nekosawa screeched harmoniously, then fell over, quite dead.

"Wow, I think he's dead," Hikaru mused indifferently.

"I think you're right," Kaoru said, stepping away from his twin to inspect the very still specimen that was Nekosawa's dead body. Carcass.

"Today we have a nice pie, with an immaculate body," Sebastian stepped from the shadows, cloaked in darkness, a cape with pointed shoulders, the shade of night, whispering softly on the floor as he glided into the room and his haunting bloody gaze took in the room and all that was in it. And from the far reaches within his cloak, he drew forth… a pie. "Eat this, dear children, and be happy. It is the last meal you will ever devour… Before I too take part in devouring you… and I mean that in the most suggestive way possible," He said then licked his lips suggestively. Then he disappeared, and the pie, suspended in midair on a string, slowly glided down to the floor through the air, like a fish…through water.

"Pie!" Honey squealed in jubilance, running forward with Usa-chan clutching his small hand.

Then it happened. Again. The pounding on the door resounded a second time. A second pounding. It pounded real good.

"Aaaaaah…" the hosts heard the haunting sound of moaning, just outside the door.

"Ohhhhh…" the moans continued, along with the pounding of the door.

"Mmmmm…"

Then the door burst open and waves of moving corpses flooded the room, their bodies writhing in mindless insanity, on the search for brains and blood and innards. Grey-green flesh hanging loosely from cracking-creaking bones, sockets void of eyes, gaping mouths bereft of teeth… they looked like Kyoya, who looked about to fall apart quite at the seams.

"Oh! What attractive little green people!" Tamaki cried most boisterously, squeezing Kyoya to his chest. It probably wasn't good for Kyoya, the emaciated little thing. "Oh aren't you all just adorable!" and Tamaki got a little too excited and snapped Kyoya in half.

"MY LOVE!" Tamaki screamed in horror as Kyoya's pieces fell to the ground in a heap of not much. And the not much began to disintegrate into dust and sand becoming less and less. "OH NO! Kyoya!" Tamaki went on picking up the particles and smooshing them into his face.

"Ho, ho, ho," A little old man in the corner laughed as he drank from a cup filled with green tea. Suddenly, the old man's eyes became fierce and he grew several feet, his torso becoming too large and muscled for the small confines of his shirt. And it ripped. Right down the middle, to expose milky white skin, like the moon in all its full glory. It was no longer the old man. It was… Kyoya! And his bony figure was no longer bony, but rather, buff and meaty. And his 'lap'…. It was even more plentiful than Tamaki's.

"What a stud!" Tamaki screamed, completely forgetting about the smooshed Kyoya on his face as he ran towards his stud-muffin, a man who held a rather devious smirk as he watched the blond man near closer, his intentions masked by his sharp, glorious features.

"It seems the writers have completely forgotten about the green people running around… in favor of writing about me," the immaculate Kyoya with a glorious body spoke in his lovely deep voice.

He grasped the glasses from his face, his eyes closed, then smashed the spectacles between his long, lanky fingers.

"Call me…. Peter Parker," Kyoya said. "You shall be my Marry… and he shall be my Jane," he said, wrapping the all too excited Tamaki in his arms, then pointed at Honey.

"Hold me tighter!"

"Oh, you're such a nag," Kyoya said excitedly. "I do believe mama fits you much better than me now," Kyoya nodded, giving Tamaki's ass a nice squeeze. He had an immaculate ass.

The little green people watched the exchange, drooling profusely. They all wanted a piece of Tamaki's ass too, and probably chunks of other hosts as well. So, anyway, their hunger got the best of them and they attacked.

Mori was the first to respond, stepping in front of the still-only-partially-clad Haruhi and smashing the heads of any green person that came too close. Honey was right behind him, swinging Usa-chan like a war-club, or hammer, or something big.

"Don't worry, Mori and I will protect you… My king," Kyoya said, his voice sounding rather sarcastic at the last part, very mocking really.

There was a flash of red, and whirring of silver and flying sparks. A sound like man-eating insects flying to their next meal filled the room.

"Don't worry my little fire cracker, I'll certainly protect you," Grell said beside the frightened Kaoru… mainly because Hikaru was already dead and still being devoured by the little green villains. "You can pay me back later," Grell began, about to dive for the rotting menaces when his head snapped towards the shivering Kaoru once again, his muscled pectorals lightly shaking, the red buds of his nipples being the main target of Grell's attention. "… with your body."

Then the white and red shemale dove, his bloody locks swishing in a tango of fire, glistening like spun rubies. He bared his rows of pearly fangs, ready for blood. Black blood probably… rotten blood. Not that he cared much; he'd later wash it down with the sweet nectar of Kaoru's neck… and other parts… Kaoru might not let him. Like he'd be able to stop the psychopath.

"I don't wanna!" Kaoru cried, then promptly dove into the swarm of green people, effectively ending his short life. "Hikaru!" Was his final orgasmic call.

"WHAT!?" Grell screamed angrily, getting distracted, and he was eaten as well. "OH BASSY! WHY!?" He screamed in cold blood.

"Mmng, bluh, ssshhhhlk, blub," Kyoya and Tamaki mouthed in unison as they were quite tied up in each other's arms, their tongues just as tied… by each other's. They were quite drowning in each other's delectable saliva. That is, until, they were drowning in blood, their own blood that is. Because the green people were quite messy with eating them.

Then suddenly there was a rip, a snare. A snap. And fluffy clouds of stuffing rained down on the room, down the walls! It slipped to the floor in messy little lumps, white lumps.

"U-usa-chan….." came the wail of a very distraught young boy. Of Jane. For that was the young boy's name, given to him by a very much dead Kyoya.

"Mitsukuni!" Mori gasped as he glanced towards the small boy on his knees, bent over his dead friend. He wasn't paying attention to the killers coming towards him.

Mori wasn't fast enough. The boy, Jane, was brutally torn apart, for what way could one be torn apart other than brutally? Limb was torn from body, body from limb, limb from limb! And it went on like that for no more than five seconds. Mitsukuni was gone.

And as Mori stared at the puddle of blood and pieces of flesh that used to be his dear friend Jane, he saw something move from the corner of his eye.

Mori's attention moved to that moving something, that something that was black and small. But then it ran away, and Mori's attention moved back to the green people that were crowding around him. They stared at him with unseeing eyes, their unhinged mouths gaping and dripping red-tinted saliva, then they attacked. And Mori answered their attack with his own! His manly roar echoed off the pink tiles and walls accompanied by the fire in his eyes, the fire of rage. The little green people didn't stand a chance against Mori's Ragbe (pronounced: Rag-buh. and meaning… well we don't really know what it means, but it has a nice ring to it, right?).

The battle commenced! Mori and his Ragbe flew through the air kicking and screaming in the most elegant way. Martial arts just has that impression.

So yeah, they fought and stuff and Mori was obviously winning because he's Mori and awesome and kicks butt and stuff like that. Shit.

Then, ALL OF THE SUDDEN, it was like the bird from the Legend of Zelda Windwaker who swooped in and stole Aryll at the beginning of the game or whatever… anyway, that thing swooped in and stole Haruhi! Oh no! Oh God! Oh heaven forbid!

"THE FORSAKEN FORTRESS!" Mori bellowed with guttural force, his eyes widened as wide as Mori's eyes could… which wasn't that wide.

And as Haruhi was lifted from the ground and the bird smashed through the window a deep, shadowy laugh blanketed the room in a morbid aura.

"And whatever happened to my pie?" a gloomy voice spoke into the pall that had rolled on a rumbling laugh into the room. "You didn't eat it, did you? Even though I made it very clear that it was in your best interest to do so, to eat it. And now since you have not granted my wishes, I shall unleash a being most dreadful, most unholy, most sexually confused…. I shall unleash… THE CRACKEN!"

And Sebastian, in his gloriously dark cloak with pointy shoulders, did just that. From the deep depths of his robes, from his very loins, sprung a devilishly red man-lady, who had hair of flames, eyes of blood, and tasted the smoldering air with a forked, black tongue that shown with dripping saliva. He was eager to taste the big man in front of him… or maybe he was just thinking of the pie Sebastian spoke of.

"Oh! I could just eat you up! Or crack you into little, tiny pieces! Look, I have just the thing!" And with that he reached into his pants and from the front he pulled out a large, shiny, red… "Nutcracker! I named him Georg, doesn't he look like he should be in a ballet?" the strange man-lady roared excitedly, his voice crackling as a fire might and his eyes holding pride as he looked at his little friend. "Let's make this easy, shall we? Hand over your nuts…" and the man-lady lunged for Mori's crotch.

Now, at this moment, Mori was more than a little confused. First of all, he really just wanted to find Haruhi and get the heck out of this nightmare. Second, he didn't really get the whole pie thing. And finally, he couldn't figure out if this…thing… was a man or a lady. Or what nuts the thing was referring to. Mori didn't have any nu-…. Oh.

"Oh come now, don't squirm!" the man-lady cried as he held tight to Mori's crotch and Mori began squirming. "It will only hurt for… ever," the fire-haired thing giggled. "And you won't be able to have children, but who wants those anyway?" and at this point, Mori gave up trying to decide if this was a man or a lady and just hauled off and hit the thing right in the face.

Blood spurted from the thing's eyes as it wailed and grabbed its nose which seemed to be falling off its face. Apparently, it wasn't put together very well.

Then Mori turned on Sebastian, and glared.

"What?" Sebastian asked.

Mori glared.

"Are you going to speak, big man?"

Mori didn't speak.

Sebastian sighed. "Fine. I suppose your screams shall just have to suffice," he growled with a demonic smirk, the corners of his mouth dark like ink.

"Where's Ha-hoo-hee?" Mori spoke.

"I don't know who that is," Sebastian said while inspecting his nails.

"Haruhi," Mori corrected himself. To be completely honest, he didn't know why he had been calling her 'Ha-hoo-hee' in the first place. Must have been a mix up in the historical documents. Brought to you by P and me… It was a glitch.

"Oh, you mean the bird food," Sebastian spoke flippantly, flicking a bit of crud onto the floor.

"Master! I need your healing milk!"

"I've told you! No milk unless you do everything I say correctly…"

"But I want your di-!" and before man-lady could finish his sentence a mud dragon fell from the ceiling and drowned him in muck.

"Well… I can't say I'm sad he's gone. Anyway, meet me in the tower, I'll have Ha-hoo-hee with me..." he was about to leave, already turned around, facing towards his exit when he paused. His body turned ever so slightly back towards Mori, until their eyes locked. Onyx black and ruby red colliding. "Wear something… Yummy." Then he was gone.

"… like bacon?" Mori misinterpreted.

But he didn't take the time to go looking for pigs to slaughter and cook. He decided that it would be better to get to this tower and not worry too much about the dress code. So, instead of wearing something 'yummy,' he went into the host club dressing room where they kept all their costumes and picked out some random shit and put it on. He ended up looking pretty yummy, the twins' fashion sense had obviously worn off on him. He looked like Aladdin, all that was missing was the magic carpet…and a monkey and a genie and Jasmine… that's pretty much it.

So the street rat ran out of the host club room, down the several halls and stairways and out the door. Towards the tower, that's where he was headed. Towards the sexy man… of course, Mori wasn't the one who thought the man was sexy. That would just be gay.

"Hello, Aladdin." Someone on Mori's right inquired. The voice was scratchy and strange. It belonged to a person in a black robe and a large black top hat. From under the hat grew long, thick strands of silver and a scar ran across the smiley man's face. "It's been a while."

"How do you know my name?" Mori asked testily.

"Everyone does," said the smile.

"Who are you?" Mori asked.

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not."

"Well then, where do you go?" asked the smiling man.

"I don't know," but he did know, he knew exactly where he was headed: to the tower.

"I think you know."

"Why?"

"Everyone does."

"What?"

"You wouldn't be running so fast if you didn't know," the smile faded slightly, and they stood for a few silent moments. "You're headed for Sebastian aren't you?"

"How'd you know?"

"Everyone does," the man chuckled.

"Why?"

"Everyone falls for him eventually… him and those… those pies… immaculate bodies, those pies, made with the best of butter. Well, a word of advice for you: don't drink the milk, whatever you do… Eat the pie, don't drink the milk, eat the pie, don't drink the milk, eat the pie, don't drink the milk…" and he disappeared, slowly melting away, until there was nothing left but his smiling mouth that kept repeating the murky mantra until he was nothing more than a pile of butter.

"Don't drink?" Mori questioned the air. "But milk is healthy…" he didn't quite understand it.

He didn't let the fact that he didn't understand get in his way though, he just kept going, running along, running, hopping along like a little wee bunny… Bonny bunny was our Mori. Aladdin.

Surprisingly, the tower wasn't too far off either. Actually, he had been running around the thing this entire time. In a circle, over and over again. He ran, he ran like a freaking t-rex being birthed from a roaring whale. (and PP fell off a cliff and died, because… I pushed her….. I WILL SURVIVE! –PP) He was so exhausted when he finally made it to the top. (T.O.P!) But, he had made it. He could see twigs poking out the tower's only window, the window at the very T.O.P. (T.O.P. would make a great Sebastian… especially in Beautiful Hangover… Look it up)

The sky above was dark, the clouds were thick and swirling. And the longer Mori stood, gazing at that window, the more the atmosphere seemed to affect him. It was cold.

Only a door stood in his way, a door guarded by a large clam. No really, it seriously was a clam. A big, pretty, purple tinted clam. Mori smiled.

"What's the password?" The clam asked in a drifty voice.

Mori wasn't paying attention to the clam's words though, the only thing he was paying attention to was the clam's mystique appearance.

"Hmm, Mori like seashells," He said, more to himself than anyone else. Did that matter though? No, the clam still heard him.

"Wow… you're the first one to get it right." And the doors were opened… and Mori walked in, unaffected.

He walked through the doors and they slammed shut behind him, he was frozen in place. What he saw… it chilled him to the bone.

… to be continued. dun, Dun, DUUUUUHHH!


	14. Aladdin

What he saw was… Madness. It was madness because all of our readers are perverts, and they need a lil sumpin-sumpin to tide them over. I don't think they understand how difficult it is to write smut with two people… it's quite awkward.

It was Sebastian, sitting atop a throne of onyx, the same shade of his inky hair. He was quite void of Cape. Cape was nowhere to be found. His pointy shoulders were no more. And this, this chilled Mori to the bone. Cape was gone, but Turban sat at Sebastian's large feet.

Mori gawked at the sinister man in front of him, his surprised gaze soon changing into a look of disdain. His eyes squinted in anger as he looked upon the smirking devil. Mori had thought Sebastian was a very good man, a man he enjoyed cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner with; a man he enjoyed doing the dishes with. He loved having Sebastian as company when he worked for the other hosts, someone who helped him and kept him company. Why would he desire Sebastian to be the villain?

"Where's Jasmine, Jafar?" Mori bellowed quite street-rat-like.

"Whatever do you mean, Prince Abooboo?" Jafar sneered, "The only person I have interest in… is you, and your little monkey too."

This caused Mori to freeze. He didn't have a monkey.

"Monkey?" Mori asked of no one in particular.

Sebastian rose soundlessly from his throne, slipping his pointy shoulders back into place.

"Oh, you know of what I speak," He suggestively spoke as his eyes traveled quite downward.

"No! It's mine," a voice squeaked from a corner somewhere.

"The monkey?" Mori asked, he was somewhat lost.

"Yes! I hope it's tan!... and big!" and with that said, a furry red man jumped out of the corner somewhere! His red tongue flapped from his mouth about the room in a dance of longing, longing to taste that tan monkey. Whatever that means.

The furry man walked from the corner but he got distracted because all of a sudden the two writer ladies started talking about Taine and his pictures and how cute that boy is, and about how Arata might be a judgmental person because he doesn't really seem to like K-pop. Makes perfect sense.

So suddenly Taine and Arata kissed and did stuff, and Taine was the total seme while Arata screamed like a little needy girl because of reasons and because, well, he really missed boobies. Because Taine doesn't have any.

And when the furry man saw that, well, he jizzed in his pants. Yes, he JIZZED in his PANTS! (Lonely Island) He ate a grape and he…

And it was a very lonely island after that, because Mori and Sebastian were the only two left after all those shenanigans. They were the only two left that hadn't done things. And they had no idea who Taine and Arata were. Or why the furry man had jizzed himself. But they didn't let it get to them, this was a very strange land after all, strange things tended to happen quite often.

"Well, that was certainly strange. They must have drank the milk…. But didn't eat the pie," Sebastian mused to himself as he consulted his pointy shoulders. "Where were we?"

Their eyes locked across the room.

"Would you like some milk?" Sebastian offered as a glass of milk floated down through the air like a fish, through water, suspended from a string. (Dangling modifier!)

Mori stared at the concoc(k)tion in front of him. The man in the top hat had told him not to drink the milk, to eat the pie but to not drink the milk, but he still didn't understand why. Milk is good for you. It's full of calcium and it slides down the throat so smooth like. He glanced back at the pointy shouldered man, a smirk slowly beginning to twist up the sinister, porcelain face. Wasn't Jafar supposed to be tan? And ugly? As Mori contemplated over the milk a few moments longer, Sebastian began to become a bit impatient.

"Do you want it or not, big man?" The tyrant asked, taking a step down the obsidian stairs, three stairs to be exact. With each step Sebastian's hooker boots clacked crisply against the tiles.

"Uh… I'll take it," Mori replied, quite too the point, not wishing to delay, whatever he was doing, any longer. Not that he really knew what he was doing anymore.

Mori-Aladdin plucked the milk from the air (because there was no sky) and took a big gulp. It was rather bitter. But it did slide smoothly down his gullet, just as good milk should, so he wasn't dissatisfied. Although, he couldn't help but notice a rather warm feeling plummeting down south, he didn't quite understand it. His pulse boomed.

"I poisoned it," Sebastian admitted. "Actually it was all poison. Not the kind that kills you, just the kind that's blue and small and round and you swallow it. It's the kind for guys, not to get confused with birth-control pills."

Mori was rather baffled. He didn't know what that meant at all.

"Now, Abooboo, take my hand," was the cold command of the pointy shouldered man.

"That's not my name," Mori said.

"Let's skip that, no need here for silly games," Sebastian spoke seductively as he reached out for the large hand of the other man. There was something different though. Sebastian, he didn't have his gloves on. His cult tattoo showed darkly against his iridescent, creamy, white skin, so contradictory to Mori's caramel, sun-loved skin. Sebastian's long, slender fingers fit nicely into Mori's beefy, calloused, even longer than Sebastian's, fingers.

Sebastian led the way through the smoke of the oddly crowded room. Mori walked so lightly, he felt quite high, it was almost as if he were prancing across the clouds! Then, all of a sudden, Sebastian turned around and pulled Mori in close - the room was crowded with red, flying faeries that darted so quickly they appeared to be lasers - their bodies touched and they heard the despondent sound of the dead hosts-turned-angels crying, already mourning their dear Mori. But why!? Why would the hosts cry? And where the hell was Ha-hoo-hee? NOBODY EVEN CARES! Everyone just wants effing yaoi! Except Arata.

"Oooh… You touched my tra-la-la… my ding-ding-dong," Mori gasped quite unlike himself. It must be the poison.

"Oh no… It's all me," Sebastian replied, reading Mori's thoughts of the poison. "I did it on purpose. And I'll do it again, if you'd like… And I'm quite sure you will," Sebastian mewled happily as he stared up at the big man's feline eyes.

"Jafar! Stop!" Mori, who still believed he was a poisoned Aladdin, gasped in anguish as the ungloved hand continued its ministration through the creamy colored harem pants that were covering Mori's… package.

"I do believe I'll have to wash these once I'm through with you… I don't at all mind," Sebastian liked washing clothes, especially for those he liked. He liked Mori.

Mori, however, was completely plagued with horrific thoughts… How was this supposed to be his most inner desire? He didn't like the dark man that much, did he?

"No Prince Ali! Don't let Jafar have his way! You can't give in or you'll become a slave to him!" came the voice, the voice of Mori's sweet Jasmine, from… somewhere in this room. Mori turned his head and caught a quick glimpse of his princess, she was chained to a giant bed, the silk sheets were wrapped about her… covering her… various parts. And pieces. And as Sebastian's lean fingers forcibly turned Mori's face towards him, he was able to see a small black cat lounging in the bed sheets next to his precious Ha-hoo-hee.

(Oh I'm so jealous of your face… you're lucky it's not skinny and long like mine…)

(Yeah, mine is long and fat..)

"So is mine," Sebastian croons, referring to what the stupid writers had been discussing. "But I don't mean my face," he smiled in a sinister manner.

"Then what do you mean?" Mori asked, and was answered by the gentle caress of Sebastian's fingers. "Oh… I'm screwed."

"Not quite," Sebastian replied, an air about him saying that soon, yes, Mori would be, in fact screwed.

"How about never!?" Haruhi shrieked.

But it was too late. Jafar had already gotten his little Aladdin hot and bothered. They were on their way to becoming quite entangled with each other's various pieces and parts, some of which being … penis. Penis penis penis penis penis!~

Sebastian gently cupped Mori's cheek, his long fingers plying the flesh gently as he moved in for a taste. Mori frowned, his lips completely upside down, not quite understanding why Sebastian was getting so close. But the fact of the matter was: Sebastian was getting closer, and closer! And eventually, there was no more space to get any closer and so they collided, their mouths did anyway.

"So, who's going to be on top?" Sebastian asked, smiling devilishly.

"Top?" Mori asked his face still pressed against Sebastian's.

They weren't kissing, oh no, heaven forbid. Their faces were just touching. Their mouths were anyway.

"Yeah, you know. Who's going to be the seme, the dominant… the penetrator… Oh it's me of course," Sebastian concluded against Mori's impeccable lips. "Your lips are impeccable… I mean, I can't peck them… I suppose they'll just have to dance."

And so they did. They moved against each other like people in a club, bodies grinding and exploring. Sebastian was obviously feeling a little frisky, he was exploring more than Mori was really comfortable with, not that Mori was comfortable with any of what was happening to him. Their bodies were so close, leaving nothing for the imagination. Then it happened… their clothes disappeared! Puff! Gone! Vanished like smoke. And there was nothing between them but skin.

"W-what?" Mori gasped in surprise as he felt the devils cool skin against his own. As their firm bodies molded to one another's; although, Mori was trying desperately to get away. He had no desire to mold to the body of this other man… Well maybe that wasn't entirely true. Another firm part of his body would say otherwise at least.

"Say something else, my sweet kitten," Sebastian purred, right in Mori's ear, making the big man shiver just the slightest bit. But when Sebastian actually bit his ear, he couldn't really contain himself and shivered all the more!

"Ah," Mori blurted.

"Yes… now make it longer… and louder… SCREAM!" Sebastian demanded, taking one of Mori's firm cheeks in hand and squeezing it… just enough, even his nails coming into play.

"Ahh~" well, it was longer, and deeper… Mori's eyes squinted in confusion. How could he like the way it felt so much? How could the fact that Sebastian's fingers were on him not disgust him? Why were the shivers that had ran up his spine of something other than distaste?

"That's right, just let me please you," Sebastian whispered against Mori's neck, where he was currently kissing, soft fish kisses, wet and indulgent, slight suction.

Mori, he lost himself for a moment. His lips parted and he breathed, tasting smoke and musk on the back of his tongue. The air was thick, inebriating, a dark cloak around them, seeming to pull them closer together. Mori opened his eyes for only a moment, and he could see nothing but Sebastian, the rest was void, blackness. The blackness seemed to glisten, to slither down like flowing snakeskin. They were utterly alone, surrounded on all sides by a molten waterfall, bubbling thickly down and around them. Their feet were cushioned by deep purple carpet, a carpet full of magic, floating atop this murky oblivion.

"Where are we?" Mori asked, sounding breathless in his own ears.

"Exactly where you want to be," Sebastian's voice was warm honey, tempting, thick, and golden, his fingers gently grazing down Mori's back, following the deep line of his spine.

Mori's hands finally responded to the other man. One hand found the man's silken, onyx tresses, the other hand traveling up Sebastian's torso, until he could feel the man's heart, pumping beneath that soft bud. That was all it took. For Mori to lose a little bit more of himself. He gripped Sebastian's hair tightly and forced his head slightly back so he could gaze into the rubies that were Sebastian's eyes.

They stared at each other for a moment, Sebastian's face registering surprise, but only for that moment. Then he grinned. And Mori smashed his lips against Sebastian's. They tangled, tasting blood, gnashing teeth, biting at each other's lips. Who was dominant now?

Sebastian's hands shook as they journeyed upward, until they wrapped securely around Mori's tense neck, and he held on tight as Mori continued to kiss him, his mouth rough against Sebastian's. But even with Sebastian clinging to Mori, trying to stay upright, it was futile. They fell in a heap on the carpet, softly cushioned, breathing deep against each other. Their muscled legs were bare and entangled.

However there was something not right… Mori didn't feel what he was expecting between the soft legs… soft? Hairless?

Mori opened his eyes and pulled away. What he saw... The atmosphere was no longer black liquid. The very air was soft, peachy. Warm and rustling sheets.

"Mori-senpai, you're hurting me," her voice was soft, a gentle whisper from bruised lips. Her cheeks were light pink and her eyes glazed, not quite focusing on Mori's.

"Haruhi," Mori breathed, sighing, leaning his head against her small shoulder, breathing in her sweet musk unable to stop his lips from craving a taste of her. He brushed his lips against her fragile neck.

"I'll stop," he said, the hesitancy evident in his voice.

As he tried to pull away, a small hand touched between his shoulders and slowly rose to his neck, gently keeping him in place. Mori's eyes shot to hers in surprise.

"Don't stop…" She whispered, a flush traveling from her chest up her elegant neck, finally settling on her cheeks.

Mori blinked in surprise, but he wasted no time. He leaned forward, one hand cradling the back of her neck as he kissed her forehead, the other hand wandering up her soft middle until it cupped the softest part of her. Barely a handful, more than what he expected, no more than he wanted. She sighed beneath him and he had to kiss her, so he did.

He was more careful, gentler, he contained the animal inside him, his tongue searching out hers rather than attacking. His hands plying softly, rather than gripping roughly. He explored her, didn't disturb her. And once she began responding more readily, with more force, his hand began its dissent. And so did his mouth. He kissed down her throat, listening to her breathe and gasp, he left trails of kisses around and around, and on the flower buds, he didn't only limit himself to kissing.

He went lower, kissing her hip once, then continuing downward.

His hands moved slowly to the crooks behind her knees, marveling for a moment at the softness there, and his eyes took her in. She looked up at him, her eyes scared. She was completely exposed to him. He flashed her a soft, reassuring smile, before he went down, his lips meeting with the skin of her inner-thigh. She responded to that, gasping, her legs shaking slightly in his soft grip.

"W-wait," she murmured nervously, her legs trying to close, to hide herself from his reveling gaze.

He pulled away for a moment, kissing her knee. "Should I stop?" he asked, sounding so gentle, as vulnerable as her.

Haruhi swallowed, unable to look away from his dark eyes, so full of warmth, all for her. She hesitantly shook her head, relaxing her legs as he eased them apart. He didn't allow her to change her mind, because his was made.

His lips met with hers, the hidden ones, not so hidden now. He tasted her. Her hands flew down, fingers twined in his hair. He was hesitant, not sure what to do at first, but as her hips rocked, just the slightest bit, he knew he was doing something right and became a little more adventurous. His fingers itched to touch her there too, to feel her close around him. So he touched her there, let his fingers sink in.

She twitched at his touch, her back arching off the sheets as she moaned. His fingers became completely sheathed by her pillowy walls. He felt her clench around him and he couldn't help but groan, his breath hot and the hum of his voice against her made her quiver. He tried to focus on movement, but he kept thinking how good it would feel to be so tightly hugged.

He couldn't help it. His unoccupied hand skimmed down his own torso, until it met with…

"Ahhh~" He couldn't help but moan as his hand wrapped around himself, his lips pressing into Haruhi all the more, along with his fingers. He heard her gasp and quickly withdrew. "Haruhi?" he asked, sounding breathless and not at all himself.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked, almost sounding alarmed.

"Uh, Haruhi… uh-can we-uh I… Iwantyou," (And that… was the fastest sentence Mori ever said)…

Haruhi blinked at him slowly, with round, innocent eyes. But he could see the want in them.

"Ok… Senpai," She voiced softly, the pink that had once been coating her cheeks now a passionate red.

He stared at her a moment before crawling between her open legs, placing his hands on either side of her shoulders. His face loomed above hers, his eyes flooded in want, and intense with need. Haruhi's own eyes were completely captured, unable to look away.

"T-Takashi… Call me that," he mumbled.

"Ok… Takashi…" her voice was small and embarrassed as her eyes began to look away.

"Look at me," He begged, placing a hand on her cheek, brushing gently with his thumb.

Just as her eyes met his, he kissed her again, biting her lip and pulling at the pink skin as he grabbed his member and pressed the tip against her slippery opening. She jerked away slightly, her eyebrows furrowing together, her eyes closed.

"Are you ok?" Mori asked, concerned.

Haruhi's eyes shot open and she took a quick peak down below, looking back up to Mori with wide eyes. "That'll fit?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Let's see," Mori replied, a small, joking smile playing at his lips.

Haruhi gulped.

He began to push in once again. He breathed out in ecstasy as he began to feel her walls giving into to him, allowing entrance, but just barely. Haruhi gripped his shoulders, her little hands feeling damp against his skin, her nails digging into him as she seethed through her teeth.

"I'll stop," but it was obvious he didn't want to, his voice thick.

"I'm ok," Haruhi breathed, blinking in quick succession. "Just get it in."

And he did, sword inserted to the hilt.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

"I'm ok."

He gave her a moment to adjust, kissing and sucking on her neck gently, fondling her breast to distract her from any pain she might be feeling. It was when she began to roll her hips into his that he got the memo.

"Move," she sighed shamelessly, her eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering like she were in some kind of stupor.

And he moved. Not quickly, not desperately, but slow and careful. She was all around him, clutching him closer, her lips against his ear, sighing. He couldn't help the sounds that escaped him, disappearing into her hair as he continued to breathe her in and take her. Her fingers were in his hair, roving over his shoulders, her lips puckered kisses against his neck, her teeth grazing his heated skin. He'd probably have marks.

She kept gasping, surprised little sounds in time with his movement.

"Ah, Takashi," Haruhi gasped. "Please…" she begged.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but…

"Tell me what… to do," he groaned against her ear, and he felt her shiver beneath him, rocking into him, forcing him deeper. "Ah~"

"Fast… go fast," she whispered. And that's all the encouragement he needed.

He pounded deeper, faster, and harder. The moans that filled the room were that much more powerful.

"Takashi~!"

…

He jumped up awake, sweat covering his body, all his friends standing around him.

"Are you alright, Senpai?" Haruhi asked looking down at him with those big brown eyes.

All the hosts watched as the big man got to his knees and took one of Haruhi's hands in his own.

"I'm so sorry…" he spoke, tears choking his voice.


	15. Neverland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, you'll be missing out on some random context. My sister and I added several of our commenters from ff.net into this and the next chapter, just for fun. These characters won't affect the main plot of the story. They were simply added in for humor purposes and to reward our original readers.

In the room sat everyone. Everyone was there and everyone was waiting. And waiting. And they were scared too. Mori didn't seem pleased from returning from his little adventure; although, no one knew exactly why that was. Which made sense since it was only Mori's desire and not theirs and whatnot.

(Eagerly awaiting your warm fingers)

"So who's next?" Kyoya asked from his chair behind his desk, it was obvious he didn't want to go next, since he had been the one to pose the question.

"Are we sure it's even our desires when we go in there?" Kaoru asked. It seemed doubtful, obviously, since Grell had – it seemed – died in his desire, and Mori was now in a state of utmost depression.

"More or less. Maybe your desire isn't quite what you expected. Perhaps it's a bit more… dark, or upsetting then you'd think," Kyoya explained, his eyes never rising up from studying whatever it was that lay in front of him.

All the other hosts stared at him, not sure how to continue on their little exchange of words.

Seeing Kaoru's unease brought the older, protecting side of Hikaru out into the open. An uncontrollable need to stand up for his younger brother swelled within his left breast until it exploded in the form of…

"I'LL BE NEXT!" Hikaru declared, jumping from his seat in the most heroic way.

Kyoya glanced up at this, his lips pouting in a rather surprised and yet apathetic way.

"Alright then."

"Through the door."

"Hikaru… be safe," Kaoru begged, clinging to his twin's bicep, giving it a soft, little press before Hikaru nodded.

"I will, I promise," Hikaru reassured, patting Kaoru's hand before he turned and didn't look back.

…

"Hika! Hika! LISTEN!" a tiny, shrill voice chimed next to his ear. "Hey! Listen!"

Hikaru rolled over in his sleep and slapped at the thing buzzing around his head.

"OW! Owowowowow! Listen to me you beastly mongrel who's terribly dressed! Seriously… who designed these clothes? It wasn't me, I swear!" the voice shrieked, it was quite distressed, also clearly disgusted, and it wasn't making it any easier for Hikaru to sleep.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WWWANNT!?" Screamed the red-headed Peter, who was also Hikaru.

"Hika-Pan! Listen!... WAKE UP!" the voice yelled. "That's what I've been trying to say… but you really flop like a fish, you know that?"

Suddenly, the weight atop Hikaru's head was relieved; although, Hikaru didn't quite remember wearing something on his head before going to sleep… in fact, he didn't remember going to sleep at all. His amber eyes shot open, along with his body shooting up. He looked around the room until he spotted something… a floating… green… hat. It had a wimpy little red feather in it.

"What the shit ass!" and he promptly fell out of his bed and landed on a dirt floor that needed some sweeping. Where was Haruhi when he needed her?

"Hika-Pan? Are you awake now? I made imaginary breakfast," came the sweet sing-songy voice of Wendy… also known as Haruhi, as she entered the bedroom. Then from somewhere, outside of the room, he heard the sing-song tweet of a Never-bird…. A what?

"He's still sleeping!" the hat yelled.

"The hell is that thing!?" Hika-pan screamed and wacked the hat. It hit the wall across the room with a resounding 'ugh.'

"OH MY GOSH! You'll kill her!... Him…! the fairy… thing… it?" Wendy/Haruhi was quite beside herself, she even managed to drop the bowl, the empty bowl, the bowl of imaginary breakfast, spilling imaginary nothingness all over the dirty floor… it still needed sweeping.

"I may be sexually undecided! But I'm not dead… I don't die that easily you mud-eyed, mud-haired, ugly poop-face!" The hat in the corner screamed a bit breathlessly.

"Sexually undecided?" Hika-Pan asked as the hat began to move… until it was picked up by the mud-eyed, mud-haired poop-face = Haruhi. She (Wendy/Haruhi/poop-face) searched the hat, but eventually gave up and dropped it unceremoniously on the ground and left the room, picking the bowl up on her way.

"God-awful woman… poop-face…" the little fairy-thing grunted as IT stood up from the folds of the hat and brushed off ITS arms and front. IT then quickly combed ITS fingers through ITS hair.

"So… Basically, you should probably define your sex so that the writers can use a better pronoun than IT over and over again…" Hika-Pan suggested wisely.

"Oh… well… I'll be whatever you want me to be," IT replied with a sweet smile as IT flew over to Hika-Pan, wings fluttering happily.

Hika-Pan blinked in confusion as he studied the fairy, his eyes going up and down as he realized that IT looked exactly like him…

"Kaoru?" Hika-Pan guessed, still blinking like someone whose contacts dried to the cornea of their eyes, never to be removed again…Shit.

"A NICKNAME!?" The little IT gasped in excited pleasure, clasping ITS little hands together, kicking ITS feet once.

"… Huh? A nickname? What's your real name?" Hika-Pan asked.

The fairy's face fell, along with ITS hands. ITS feet dangled like IT no longer saw the point in having them. "You forgot? You were the one who named me… MY NAME IS KAO-BELL!" the fairy wailed then quit hovering altogether and fell to the ground in a blubbering heap of wings and little green-leafy clothes.

"In that case, you should definitely be a 'he-his-him'…"

"What's a 'HEHISHIM'!" Kao-bell cried in agony, his tears were a little bit too big for his small face. He was already sitting in a puddle, his leafy garments beginning to collect the mud of the floor.

"Whoa! Calm down," Hika-Pan spoke a little softer as he picked up the small, wailing thing by his drooping wings and placed the trembling fairy in his own palm. "Just be a boy… Just be what you are, ok?... Kao-bell…?"

"What I am?" Kao-bell asked, rubbing his eyes so he could look up at his favorite someone without looking so drippy.

Hika-Pan smiled. Kao-bell blinked back.

"Yeah… you are a boy right?"

"Well… I pee standing up."

"You're a boy."

Kao-bell smiled, his tiny little face, flushed from crying, was full of admiration for this wise Hika-Pan. And Hika-Pan smiled back, a fond smile that didn't quite verge on mischievous, which – if he could've seen himself – would seem completely out of tune with his character.

"YAY! I'm a boy!... do you like boys?" Kao-bell asked while beginning to stand up on the rough palm.

Hika-Pan raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond there was a loud clamoring and it was all becoming louder and louder. Until…

"Father!" the harmonizing voices of… raccoons?

"Fatherrrrrrr!" a chubby bear.

"Dad," unfeeling, strangely tall skunk.

"Whoa! You! You're! You're you!" a very happy bunnny (yes we meant the third 'N') was aghast.

"Ahh man… what's gonna happen to me this time?" the fox leaned coolly against the wall, ears back. "Where's Taine?"

"He couldn't be here even if he wanted to, dip wad," Kao-bell mused, he obviously didn't like the fox much, even though he was a nice looking fox.

The room was quite full now.

Hika-Pan's eyes jumped to every figure around him more than once, several times even, many times in fact! He couldn't deny the familiarities he saw in the chubby bear and the silent skunk. "Who are these people… animals?" he whispered to Kao-bell.

"You forgot them too?" Kao-bell's voice dripped with concern, but he shook himself and seemed happy to be useful a second later. "Well then, everyone! INTRODUCE YOUR UGLY SELVES! Hika-Pan is suffering from insomnia… no, that's not it… Anastasia! That's it!"

"It's amnesia… dip wad," the fox said, inspecting his nails in a 'I'm way too cool to pay attention to anyone but myself' kind of way. "My name is Slightly-Arata, but you can call me Arata, I guess," the foxy boy blinked his dark feline eyes slowly.

"I'm Bunnnyboy-Toy! Also known as Nibs! That's what the extra 'n' is for," nodding his head spastically. "Also! I really like nipples, I like to nibble on them, but mostly I like nipples. I like the word too: nipplenipplenippple—" and he continued on, murmuring to himself as everyone else forgot he existed.

"Us! We're Mins!" the twin raccoons said in unison.

"I'm Taemin!" one said. "And he's Minho," he pointed to his counterpart.

"No, I'm Taemin, you're Minho!"

"Whatever, and together…"

"We're 2MinForever!" they squealed together.

"Yeah…" The tall skunk spoke. "Tootles." The skunk informed, then left the room.

"I'm Cubby!... But I wanted to be the bunny… but I'm too fat to fit in the bunny costume," then the honey colored bear promptly began to cry… and his costume soaked up all the tears… and made him look even fatter.

"Amnesia?" Hika-Pan asked while crossing his legs. Indian-style, in fact.

"We should go consult the mermaids! They'll know what to do!" Kao-bell exclaimed quite jubilantly.

"YEAH!" all the other boys cried in agreement before picking Hika-Pan up and hoisting him above their heads.

"The hell!?" Hika-Pan felt very unstably balanced atop all these hands.

"Who's the leader?" someone cried.

"Following the leader!" and thus the song began.

Slightly-Arata seemed the most eager out of all the boys to be on their way to see the mermaids.

"We're following the leader?!" A head appeared from the ceiling, leaves falling everywhere. It was poop-face, a smile splitting her face right in half.

"Onward! To the BOOBIES!" Arata yelled at the front of the rest of the boys.

Then all the boys cheered, because boys will be boys.

They went past the bushes and through the trees. They could see the bubbling waterfall just in front of them and knew they were there. A large rock sat just beside the flowing water and atop the glistening pool. Only one other thing could make this scene that much more beautiful. If only a mystical creature sat upon that rock!

Then there one was, hoisting itself onto the rock with such grace and elegance, with beauty that only a creature such as this could possess…the little waterfall parted just so as the lovely creature leaned back, just far enough so that all could behold the delicious arch of its back, the tilt of its head and the cascade of chocolate tresses that just kissed the nape of its neck, the smooth muscles lining its flat chest…

"Merman…" Arata mused to himself, promptly dropping Hika-Pan. Arata's eyes, sparkling, were the surprise.

No one really paid any attention to the loud thump as they were all in a daze at what posed before them.

"Oh? I have an audience?" the merman turned and smiled a flirtatious smile as his hand found its way into his own dark locks, then the enchanting being's sun-speckled green eyes found the somewhat slumped visage of Slightly-Arata. "Arata," the being spoke coyly. "Fancy meeting you here," he breathed.

Then Arata fell into a fit of coughing.

"Are YOU oKAY?!" Kao-bell cried, he was probably the only one who didn't notice the majestic merman slipping into the water and swimming to the shore. And, not to mention, nobody even noticed Hika-Pan still lying in a heap on the ground muttering to himself about Anastasia.

"Don't *cough* co- *cough* -me any closer! *COUGH COUGH COUGH*!" Arata wheezed as he tried to back the heck up! He tripped over a root, started falling backwards, caught himself, took a step forward, tripped over the same root, and fell… right into the water.

Finally someone decided to take notice of Hika-Pan, but not before the merman lifted the only slightly sinking Slightly-Arata up into the air, as if he were something to be admired… a pose akin to Rafiki holding up baby Simba, ah, the circle of life and the drippy, skinny fox in the merman's hands.

"You look like a drowned rat," the merman said fondly, a happy smile crinkling his emerald eyes. OH WHAT BEAUTIFUL TEETH HE HAD!

"Ohhhhh, I do believe he's a fox… a very red fox~!" Someone said from way of the stone. And on that stone sat yet another merman. A ruby red tail and blood red hair that flowed down his back just like the waterfall behind him.

"Quick!" and suddenly Hika-Pan wasn't so brain-dead. "Save Slightly!" but nobody moved… "Fine! I will!" and Hika-Pan grabbed a nearby, conveniently placed vine and swung out over the little lagoon… everyone stared at him in amazement.

"What are you doing!? FLY!" Kao-bell screeched indignantly from the sidelines.

"Fly!?" Hika-Pan screamed back.

Kao-bell zoomed after the swinging Hika-Pan, but got hit by a rather mean gust of wind and had to redirect his course just the slightest bit. Maybe more than a slight bit.

"Oh, what a lovely little fly," the sharp-toothed, crimson-haired merman mused and reached out and plucked the little puttering Kao-bell from the air.

"Those are my wings! DAMN YOU!" Kao-bell shrieked, flailing his arms in every which way he was able. " &! $&$^ ^ !$^%!" The little imp raged.

"Oh, my, my, what a vocabulary," the red-haired merman worshipped.

And Hika-Pan was still swinging, around and around. He knew he wasn't really strong enough to pick Arata up, so he just kept swinging.

"Abujububububudubudubu, Tofutofu," The merman, holding Arata, baby-talked to his new boy-toy.

"Uhh… what?" Foxy asked.

Then, finally, Hika-Pan let go of the vine and nearly fell into the water, but he stopped. And he hovered there, his eyes nearly bugging out of his face from surprise.

"He can… fly…" Slightly-Arata gulped. "You see that, Taine?" the little fox asked his captor.

"Wouldja look at that, he can fly," Taine smiled, and then slowly, ever so slowly, brought Arata to his bare, flat chest and squeezed.

"Ugh," Arata grunted.

"Hehe canan fly-y!" the two Mins were just slightly off sync.

"He can fly," Haruhi/Wendy/poop-face hugged herself, smiling brainlessly.

"He can fly!" Chubby-Honey whooped.

"Whoa!" Nibs-the-nipple-loving-bunnnyboy-toy gasped.

"FLY!" Kao-bell screamed right before the red merman's tongue snaked out of his toothy cavern and took a little taste, sneezing fairy dust.

"Mm…" the skunk nodded in approval.

All was jubilant, until something else was heard… that nightmarish sound all knew, the distant, ticking of a swallowed clock. Everyone paused as if time had stopped, but how could it have when that constant tick-tock-tick-tock bounced around inside everyone's heads?

The leather head of the beast barely skimmed the surface, but they were all looking for it, so they all saw it. That long-smiling mouth and the demon astride it. Long creamy legs covered in thigh-high glossy boots, elegant arms crossed across a masculine chest, a curling smile on lips of pure temptation.

"Hello, wayfarers, I am the Crocodile Rider," the decked out man spoke in a tantalizing drawl. "And this… ThisIsAName," he gestured at his marvelous, green steed.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

"I need a name…" the crocodile gurgled.

"I prefer just calling you Mine," The devilishly attractive man breathed affectionately as he stroked the crock's fine head.

"OH BASSY!

" The red merman squirmed, subconsciously releasing his captive as he flailed his arms about the air.

"AHHHHH~!" Kao-bell screamed as he was thrown through the waterfall. He landed on his face, on the ground…. Ground? "Ugh," Kao-bell groaned into the dirt under his very squished face. He placed his hands on the cool earth beneath him to push himself up. He blinked the dust away from his eyes before he was able to see his surroundings. What he saw was… madness…

Meanwhile, back at the lagoon. Hika-Pan was still hovering over the water, in fact, he was probably the only one who still couldn't believe he was hovering… or flying, or whatever he was magically doing. He probably never would've snapped out of it, had it not been for the sudden leather-skinned substance that appeared in front of his face. A crocodile eye stared happily up at him.

"Oh good, you've snapped out of it," Sebastian, the crocodile rider, drawled, inspecting his inky black finger nails. "I have bad news for you," he paused so he could glance up at Hika-Pan with glowing red eyes and a twisted smirk. "You've been kidnapped."

And he was.

… to be continued.


	16. Never Again

"Remind me again why I did this for you," his voice was a low drawl, sultry as a room scented with wafting tea and lit candles. "I really can't remember why, which is rather vexing," the crocodile rider mused to himself.

"Because I told you to? Maybe?" he was blonde, and wore a vibrant red hat with a floppy purple feather that danced clumsily in the small bit of breeze.

"He had to get here somehow, that's what the writers wanted," he was Smee. A tall, slim, young, inky-haired Smee that looked more put together and calculative than the original Smee.

At about this time, the young Hika-Pan began to stir. He was incapacitated, in a small barrel that the crocodile held happily in his mouth.

"What exactly do you want to do with him?" the succulent crock rider asked as he inspected one gloriously pale leg of his. "By the way, Mine, I'm glad we were finally able to deduce that you are, in fact, male… Took long enough to find that out, seeing as how you've been along for this ride quite a while and still haven't managed to get a profile. Seems a rather lukewarm relationship you have with this fanfiction."

The hefty crock promptly spat the barrel out of his mouth. "You think my relationship with you is… lukewarm?"

"Quite," Sebastian said. "You really ought to show me yourself, I'm feeling, somehow, lied to, and I can't abide that. That said, you really should think of a proper name for yourself, ThisIsAName, while amusing, isn't actually a name and I feel rather put off having to repeat such an indecorous statement."

"I…I thought you didn't care," the crock whimpered deep in his rumbling throat. "I thought you liked calling me yours."

"How can that be when I don't even know what you look like? For all I know you could be a wrinkled old man, like Tanaka over there," he pointed toward the illustrious ship, and there, in a dark corner, stood a very craggily short old man. Ho, ho, ho… "Or you could be… like Taine," and he turned toward the crowd – whoever that may be. "That odd specimen of a man… merman," he began to be mumble to himself, seeming to be lost in his thoughts somewhere. "Covered in a layer of scales and lies. And those eyebrows, so immaculately… immaculately… sculpted; eyebrows that put all others to shame…" Sebastian's closed in, twitching form straightened once again and he seemed himself. "I'll just call you My TIAN, an acronym of the finest sorts. But of course it won't be pronounced like that… Tian, it's rather brilliant, you see, it's the last four letters of my own name."

"It sounds like a girl's name," the crock spoke disbelievingly, his honey toned crocodile eyes staring off into complete oblivion.

"You misunderstand, my dear Tian. It's pronounced the exact way that the last bit of my name is… Sebas… Tian… So really, it's more like, Chen, or Chun… or Chan… MY CHAN!" his leg was up in the air, and he marveled for a moment at the shine of his own boot, then shook himself. "My my, I sounded quite unlike myself, I do apologize."

"My Chan?" and poof! He was no longer a crock.

Sebastian blinked in utmost surprise, his lips angled slightly downward as he stared upon the bubbling creature below him. The devilish man snapped his fingers and a gust of wind held him aloft so he wouldn't get his bumbum wet. Although the creature that he was once atop remained in the water… But it wasn't the same creature as before, now there was a boy, a very naked boy bobbing in salty, swaying water. The color of his skin, his hair, his eyes, was… unknown.

"Well, that was quite a display," Smee spoke while adjusting his spectacles.

"I'm having trouble… seeing him… I think?" Captain King squinted, but the colorless boy wasn't any more colorful.

"He has a name; it's Chan, My Chan," Sebastian glowed with a strange sort of smile.

(You know monkey… you're a real slut…)

(Why would you say that? … how'd you figure that out?)

(I'm Claude)

(Well that's weird… I don't remember you having a penis)

(You'd be amazed what paint can do – 'Not Exactly Royalty')

"WHAT KIND OF STUPID NAME IS THAT!? OH WAIT! IT'S A STUPID NAME FOR A STUPID CROCODILE!" And so came the wrath of the dreaded Hika-Pan-in-a-barrel; it is true that red-heads have a fiery temper. At least in this story.

"Desssspicable," Ssssebastian ssssneered.

Then Hika-Pan was flying, because he remembered how.

"Quick, Smee! Man the cannon!" Captain King demanded.

"Oh no, allow me," Sebastian said, lurching upwards toward the lonely cannon, lighting the fuse with the fire of his breath.

"That thing hasn't worked since we purchased the ship," Smee mumbled.

"Quick, Smee! Ready the plank!" Captain King yelled.

With that Smee whirled around in – almost – bewilderment. "But sir, who's to walk it?"

"Never mind that!" Captain King bellowed like a billowing ship's sail.

All the while Sebastian swung the cannon to and fro, trying to catch the allusive Hika-Pan in his sights.

"Quick, Smee! Bring me… SQUAW!" and suddenly Captain King was captivated, seized, by the sight of a pretty maiden climbing her way onto deck. The plank had proven quite useful to this particularly small scallywag.

"Haruhi Darling!" Hika-Pan cried, covering his mouth in surprise, I said her name!

"Darling?" the captivated Captain was struck by the fiery dart of cupid. "Darling? She's yours?! Your Darling?!" and the fire lit his violent violet eyes, two great bursting stars. "Starlight! KICK!" and he kicked a cannon ball, causing all to turn and pause, even Sebastian was drawn away from his former duties to watch as this spindly man's foot met with the heavy ball, muscles rippling and nerves electrifying throughout his entire being. The ball flew true, right through the side of the ship. Then this miraculous thing happened, it launched upward and it flew straight into Hika-Pan!

And Hika-Pan fell. Right into the water.

Then Darling, who had just made it onto the ship, jumped back into the water, screaming a rather yodeling sounding sound. "AYYYAAYAYYA!" PLOOP. The water hardly noticed her.

"Ma… Ma…." Captain King stuttered as his hand reached out to nothing, but towards something. Towards his Darling. "DADDY WILL SAVE YOU!" he declared, ridding himself of all the fancy clothes he believed made him look like quite a kingly pirate. The only thing left was his red swim-trunks, which had FATHER written on the side of each leg. Vertically.

"Oh, you still have those," Smee concluded.

"Yes! Call me Captain Daddy!" he said before he dived into the still water. The ocean did notice him. SPLASH!

"Should someone go in after him as well?" Chan asked timidly, twiddling his fingers, his stomach ticking, the unknown curvature of his body still bobbing.

"No," Sebastian and Smee spoke in unison, turning toward each other suspiciously.

"So tell me, Smee, why won't this fuse…" and Sebastian stopped.

"I haven't the slightest idea, I've been forced to light it several times and it never…"

"I see. What a pity… Although, I'm sure My Chan can fix it," Sebastian spoke confidently, turning towards the shy, bobbing, unidentifiable boy.

"M-me?" Chan asked as Sebastian bent over the side of the ship and picked him up (because Sebastian's arms are totally that long) by his nondescript hair. It didn't actually hurt, because no one was sure if it was even there.

So Chan got to work, trying to fix the cannon. Meanwhile, Sebastian went to find the kitchen. It was about tea-time.

…

And at that moment Arata remembered he was a master of Judo! So he punched Taine in the face, or tried. Taine dodged pretty efficiently since he was well accustomed to Arata's form of 'rough love.'

"DAMN YOU!" Arata cried out in anguish as he threw punch after punch, Taine dodging all of them until he began to feel pity towards his foxy friend. So then he stopped dodging, and Arata hit him so hard that the merman flew right through the waterfall, and Arata fell into the water once again.

"I love WATER!" Arata screamed to the sky and splashed about in childish victory.

It didn't take long for all the other lost boys to get the hint and jump in after him, all screaming pleasurably. Except one.

A rather large foot caught Arata, by surprise, in the nose.

"Why would you hurt that glorious merman?! What if you damaged his beautiful face for good!?" it was Bunnnyboytoy.

Arata stared up at his attacker in disbelief, until something else caught his interest. He felt something warm gliding down to his upper lip. His fingers reached up tentatively to swipe under his nose. There was dark blood clinging to his olive skin.

And so, a fight ensued.

…

Kao-bell coughed. There was dirt all over his tiny face. More like mud really, since he was soaked from flying through the waterfall.

"What is this place?" he spoke to no one, trying to wipe his mud-ridden eyes, they stung quite a bit. "Where's Hika… Pan…" His words began to drift away as soon as his eyes fully opened and took in the room, nay, the world around him.

Gold. Golden gold. Glistening golden gold. Glittering, glistening, golden gold. Godly, glittering, glistening golden gold. GOLD WAS EVERYWHERE. He had found a whole new world. He, however, was not the only one who was aware of his new find.

"A whole new world…" Kao-bell whispered.

"A dazzling place I never knew!" Taine burst through the water fall - not of his own accord - singing in his cold, baritone voice. "Hmmm…I feel like I'm in the wrong movie."

"Your voice sounds like an ice cream machine…" Kao-bell whispered in disbelief.

"Yeah, you're supposed to be in pornos," Bunnnyboy said, from the mouth of the cave. He was ringing the water out of his long ears, standing a little closer to Taine than he really needed to. "So this is what the waterfall was hiding…" he mused to himself, looking around at all the useless gold stuff. "I always wondered why Hika-Pan snuck off towards the lagoon so often… I thought it was because of the mermaids… mans…" he said, glancing towards Taine with a strange gleam in his unknown-color of eyes. (I hope they're brown ^.^)

"I'll have you know, that I've never stooped low enough to take part in the corrupt activities of participating in a porno… Where's Arata?" Taine wondered, his eyes searching this way and that for his beloved play-thing.

"I'M THE TOY!" Bunnnyboytoy exclaimed in irritation.

"Arata's not a toy… Why are we talking about toys?" Taine continued to wonder.

"Because I want you to play with me!" Bunnnyboytoy was desperate, it was evident in his colorless eyes.

"How can I possibly do that when I don't even know the color of your eyes? Or your hair for that matter… your ears, though, are nice, that gray color makes them look very soft," Taine smiled, an innocent smile, he seemed rather too innocent to be a merman, or to have ever acted in pornos for that matter.

Bunnnyboy stared at the merman in front of him, his eyes blinking several times in surprise. He was falling harder for this water god with each passing second. Then he fell completely, right on his face. A jingle of gold coins sounded as he collapsed.

"Oh my. Are you alright?" Taine asked, but made no move to help him up – couldn't even if he had wanted to, being grounded as he was.

That's when Kao-bell saw a coconut; it was near Bunnnyboytoy's head.

"HA! I got him!" And Arata burst through the waterfall at full-foxy speed, his tail wagging every which way. "How's that for seme?" Arata asked, placing one of his costumed feet on Bunnnyboy's head, shoving it further into the coins.

"Seme? What do you mean?" Taine wanted to know.

Arata turned and stared at the stupid merman, looking as disappointed as a cat. "You mean you've forgotten what the writers made us do already?"

"Ohhhhh!" Taine looked down for a moment, then did an epic hair-swish, smiling evilly up at Arata. "How could I forget?" he asked, then that evil smile broke and he was melting in giddiness. "I remember being so proud of myself! AHA!" too much aegyo.

An unpleasant shiver ran down Arata's spine with, what he believed to be, that disgusting display.

"Ok, whatever," Kao-bell said, he was all sass. "Let's get back to ME! So, I found all this gold, and I found out that that waterfall is a portal to ALL THIS GOLD! So… what are we gonna do about it?"

"Well," Taine began, cupping some of the coins in his hand before allowing them to slip through his fingers. "It's obviously Hika-Pan's, so…" He placed two coins over his manly nipples. "We should just leave it here!"

"Oh my god… You are so embarrassing, why do I hang out with you?" Arata said.

"Because you have no other friends, and I don't either. We're like a perfect pair!" Taine gushed.

"I have friends! And awesome hookahs! I have tons of friends… mostly because I'm the one with hookahs…" the poor fox kept getting more depressed.

"Hey Arata," the groggy voice of Bunnnyboy reached the depressed fox's ears. "What does the fox say?" it was obvious that the bunnny was annoyed with the fact that the special merman and that pesky fox were talking so friendly like. So he bit the fox's tail.

Coins rained in the new little world as Arata jumped about in pain, ding, ding, ding.

"Well, that makes no sense, it's just a costume," the lounging merman said, moving his long, emerald-green tail about the mass of gold beneath him, his nipples still covered.

"Oh yeah…" Arata said, his show of pain subsiding immediately, his eyes sparking as he turned to glare at the perverse Bunnny behind him.

"Wow, you're dumb," Bunnnyboytoy said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You know what's also dumb? The fact that you don't really have a profile but the writers don't make a big deal about it… why is that? Nobody knows what you look like and the writer's don't seem to care… that's pretty suspicious, don't you think?" and suddenly, the bunnny wasn't quite so cute.

"One word… Bathhouses," the fox said. (So that's what the fox says^.^)

What a sass.

(Hey monkey, how do you paint people?)

(Well first you make skin color… then you put it)

(It'd have to have yellow…)

(What?)

(Maybe I'll make it purple)

…

Haruhi Darling forgot she wasn't a very strong swimmer. Actually, she forgot that she couldn't swim at all. She had forgotten that the only reason she had been able to make it to the ship was because of that weird red-merman's help. He was hiding now, trying to figure out where that crock rider went. Sadly, he wouldn't be able to get to him anyway, because that hooker-boot-wearing man was in the kitchen, making tea, humming some strange song to himself. It was still about tea-time, to be completely honest, not much time had passed at all. And during that not-much-time, Haruhi had managed to sink some, quite a bit really, and Hika-Pan was still further down than she was; he looked like he was sleeping, or that's what Haruhi thought anyway, when the salty water wasn't stinging her eyes blind.

Then, as Haruhi was staring, dumbly, at the boy sinking faster than she - he probably had no fat on his body to keep him afloat in the slightest - something happened. A miracle really. The fatless boy's eyes shot open and glowed like sunshine bursting past cloudy sleep. Bubbles erupted from his mouth as he yelled, trying to rid his lungs of the salty liquid that was so set on choking him. His head jerked this way and that in panic, only just realizing his surroundings. His eyes widened when he saw the girl above him, his lips mouthing her name. "Poopface"…

His glowing eyes sparked with vengeance, his arms becoming fierce with fight as he began to swim upward, his first target being the girl, his second the ship, and his third… Captain King.

However, something unexpected happened, again. Just before Hika-Pan made it to the girl, he saw hands glide around her slim waist. Hika-Pan's battle with the water stopped abruptly as he paused, as he watched and waited to see just who those lanky hands belonged to. Who was touching Hika-Pan's Darling? He felt reminiscent for a moment, hadn't this happened before? Hadn't he watched as his Darling was stolen away from him not so long ago?

He wouldn't wait this time.

He flew through the water with a burst of fiery speed, snatching at the girl, prying her from those clutching hands, and he was off again. Speeding away from the appropriately attired swimmer below him, those purple eyes stared at him with something akin to hate, but Hika-Pan turned his attention to the surface, and saving the girl in his arms.

Once they made it to the surface, taking in large gulps of air, their lungs burning, Hika-Pan directed the girl to his back, where she clung to his shoulders. He didn't return to the ship, his destination was somewhere else now. He felt he'd already defeated Captain King in a way, so now, he only wished for one thing: to get his Darling to safety.

Next stop: home.

…

"These won't come off," Taine whined apologetically as he pulled at the pieces of gold resting atop his pink buds. (What if they're not pink? Are they pink?)

"Oh here, let me help," Arata said in annoyed sort of way, because although he seemed to hate the merman, they shared a friendship that often involved smoking hookah…. Together… Alone. They were actually very good friends… quite close. Arata was no stranger to Taine's nipples.

"NO! you might damage them!" Bunnnyboytoy squealed in terror, slapping his hands over Taine's gold-covered nipples.

"Oh my," Taine expressed in a very unaffected manner, his hands held up as if he were trying to say he wasn't armed, that he surrendered completely…

Bunnnyboy blushed prettily.

"He's not gay," Arata said apathetically, looking at his finger nails.

"How do you know that!?" Bunnnyboy yelled; his hands were still firmly placed over Taine's glorious pectorals.

"He's had men confess to him before, he turned them down," Arata spoke calmly.

"Is that because he had you?" Bunnnyboy asked; he was annoyed, somewhat calm, but obviously annoyed.

"Uhhhh…" Arata wasn't looking at his nails anymore.

"Are you admitting you're a girl?" Bunnnyboy snickered, FINALLY sliding his hands downward until he was feeling those nice muscles below Taine's ribs. A smile slowly began to twist up his face, and Taine just lounged there, still unaffected.

"What, no!" Arata gasped.

"It's ok Arata, you don't need to be ashamed," Taine spoke encouragingly, watching the hands on his torso continue to explore.

"I'm not a girl!" Arata exclaimed, his eyes finally deciding to take notice of the activities going on before him, his cheeks turning a dark shade.

"I know Arata… Believe me… I know." Taine was all confidence.

"I'm about to take off my pants! To prove to you all that I AM a guy!" Arata was getting pretty worked up.

"Oh, please do…" a ghastly voice (very Sunako Nakahara-esque :]) spoke from a shadowy niche in the cave.

"Who…Who's there?" who…who said that?(PP's words, I wasn't supposed to put them there) It was Taine who said that.

"Please… continue," the ghastly voice said. And Bunnnyboy didn't need the encouragement.

"Now then, how do I get this tail off?" Bunnnyboy asked.

"Oh, there's a zipper in the back…" said the voice.

So Bunnnyboy promptly flipped Taine over and began searching the back of Taine's tail, his hands moving over the slimy film covering Taine's scaly ass.

"Yes… Yessss… Yeeessssss…" the voice whispered loudly, breathing deep.

"Ok, who the hell is that!?" Arata finally exploded, taking a couple heavy steps towards the niche, coins flying everywhere. And as Arata got closer to the niche, he could hear a very faint, very muffled, very breathy voice asking for: "Hellllp… Helllp me."

Arata blinked, a chill running down his spine as he neared the questionable niche.

"K-Kao-Bell?" He asked, his body tense, his legs and arms bent in a rather... strange way.

"Yes… yes…" he heard the voice, that wasn't the muffled fairy, say.

"AHAHA! THAT TICKLES!" Arata heard Taine screech playfully behind him.

"Baka…" Arata whispered to himself, his voice deep with annoyance, and his eyebrows frowning.

"Are you just going to stand there… Right in my way?" And with the voice, came a body. It was the body of TigerLillyQueen.

"Gah! What are you doing here!?" Arata exclaimed, as he stared, disgusted.

"I was waiting for Hika-Pan…" As she spoke, Arata couldn't help but glance towards her hands. In one, laid a very distraught Kao-Bell while the other plugged the fairy's mouth with its pinky… "I've seen him come in here with Tootles several times… and several times alone," her eyes began twitching. She jammed her pinky in further. Kao-Bell gagged, his eyes wide with tears. "I was waiting… and it's getting good… so shut up, and go join them!" she said, plopping herself on the ground, in perfect view of 'the happenings.' "I am the Yaoi Queen, do as I say, and all will be well."

Arata turned around and what he saw… Taine was tailless now and what covered his nether regions was a very green, very tight, sparkling, spandex speedo. Arata covered his eyes with his pawed hands.

Bunnnyboy's hands hovered above the sparkling buttocks, his fingers twitching.

"Nice isn't? I play soccer on beaches, that's why," Taine said, and it showed. Along with the muscles flexing in his thighs and calves. He was quite the Adonis.

Bunnnyboy couldn't reply, he couldn't move, he couldn't even swallow, so he began drooling, right on that perky, sparkling ass.

"Oh my."

"Oh yesss….." the Yaoi Queen would probably drill a hole through Kao-bell's head before this was over.

"WOAH! WOAH!" It was Taemin and Minho!

"MORE YAOI!" Yaoi Queen exclaimed, forgetting about the Kao-Bell in her hand and flinging him upwards.

"I'M FREE! I must go tell Hika-Pan!" and he flew through the waterfall.

"Get busy…" Yaoi Queen demanded, making a screen with her hands, just like the SHINee boys do in their dance for Sherlock!

And that's all the encouragement Bunnnyboy needed before his hands plunged –

And that's all the encouragement Minho needed. He took Taemin by the hand.

"Do you have your iPod?"

"Do you have the speakers?"

"Yes…"

And so, the salsa began! It was saucy! (look it up on the youtube)

…

Hika-Pan laid Darling onto his bed, her hair still wet, her eyes closed, but not for long. It took just a few moments, then her eyes exploded open, salty water flinging from her long, luscious, eyelashes. It was quite the spectacle.

"Hika… I'm sorry, were you hoping to give me CPR?" Darling asked, before abruptly re-closing her eyes. "Go ahead, I'll pretend like I'm unconscious… I'm very good at pretending." But we all know that's a lie.

Hika-Pan was rather astounded by her display of stupidity and also by the lovely sight of her puckering her little cherry pink lips.

"Do you really want me to?" Hika-Pan asked, trying to seem unaffected, when in all actuality his heart was pumping like a little hummingbird's and a droplet of sweat trickled down his temple. You wouldn't be able to tell without us telling you though, because he was still sopping wet.

"An unconscious person can't talk, Hika."

"You just did."

But in the end, it was too good of a chance to pass up. So there he went, leaning down… down, down, down, until he hovered just above her. Thump, thump, thump. He wasn't really given any time to marvel at their proximity though, because as his marveling began, an arm hooked around the back of his neck and he was forced down. The space was no more.

He made a sound of surprise that quickly melted into an indulgent sigh as his eyes eased closed. He hadn't expected Darling to make the move; he wasn't sure what he thought about that exactly. Sure, he thought it was hot, but… he was the man!

The kiss deepened, her arm tightened around his neck, pulling him closer.

(Oh, I wanna touch the back of your neck with my cold hand)

His other hand found the bed, sunk into the soft blanket, he could feel the heat of her on the inside of his wrist, where his skin almost touched her. That became the only thing he wanted. He bit her bottom lip, just a little, running his tongue over the soft flesh, feeling her breath on his face when she sighed. He moved his hand next to her, his wrist pressed gently into her side, but it wasn't enough. His hand cupped her side, moving along until he found the dip beneath her arm, and he felt her shiver. His thumb was more courageous than the rest of his hand, brushing against that soft bit of flesh resting just over her ribs.

She kissed him, hot with breath. He kissed back, softening, wanting to melt into her. Her fingers in his hair.

"Oh." That voice stopped them in their tracks. Hika-Pan turned away from the still gasping Darling.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?! ANASTASIA?! NO! SACRACY!"

"Sacrilege," Tootles corrected.

And that's when Kao-bell exploded, his face turning tomato-red. "IT DOESN'T CARE!"

"It?" Tootles asked, he didn't look happy, but he rarely did.

Hika-Pan and Darling couldn't say anything, they didn't really have time because Kao-bell flew straight at Hika-Pan, screaming.

"ALL THESE GUYS ARE IN THE GOLD-CAVE GETTING IT ON WITH THE DAMN MERMAN ANNNND!" he took a big breath. "NOW YOU'RE GETTING IT ON TOO WHEN YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE WITH ME!" and the little fairy rammed right into Hika-Pan's face, sending them both flying off the bed. Hika-Pan landed on his head and broke his neck.

…

"BAH!" Hikaru screamed and sat up on the floor of The Room.

"That's the second one to die," Kyoya mused, checking something off on his clip-board. "Interesting."

"What? Why?!" Hikaru grabbed handfuls of his hair then turned casting about the room, looking for the one he blamed. "You," he said, more quietly, pointing at Kaoru.

"I'm glad you're ok," Kaoru said tentatively.

"I'm not ok! You killed me," Hikaru glared.

"What?" Kaoru asked.

"And it was getting so good! Haruhi and I were getting ready t-" he stopped himself, swallowed. "Getting ready to jump off a waterfall…" he finished.

"I can't swim," Haruhi spoke monotonously.

"And then you pushed me!" Hikaru burst. "You ran right into my face!" and he jumped on his twin.

"So we jumped off together?" Kaoru wanted to know.

But he never got an answer because they were both too busy wrestling on the floor.

"So…" Kyoya said. "Who's next?"


	17. The Gleaming Gloom

"I feel fat," Haruhi said happily.

"That's not true, Haru-chan, you look adiaphorous…" Honey said flippantly,

"That's the wrong word!" Tamaki exclaimed full-heartedly, slashing his hand through the air like a sword through enemy flesh.

Kyoya remained calm and collected, unaffected by the afore mentioned word and well accustomed to abrupt outbursts from Tamaki. He scribbled, his eyes not straying from whatever the hell kinda words/picture he was scrawling. "And how is it that you, of all people, know the meaning of that word, Tamaki?"

Boobies were his favorite color, it was all too apparent.

(Boys are weird.)

(That's why I'm dating my sister ^_^ )

"I looked it up!" Tamaki exclaimed jubilantly, thrusting the mobile device in his hand forward for all to see. "AHO!"

"Alright, I volunteer Tamaki to go," Kyoya said.

"NO! It… it's scary in there!" Tamaki yell-whispered.

"How do you know?"

"WAHH! FINE!" Tamaki screamed, and he ran through the door. The door shattered. It grew back.

…

It was a day that would end with a night. Tamaki was sure of that, what he wasn't so sure about though, was whether Haruhi would actually appear.

"How did you know that I eat my apples red?" a warped voice spoke directly into Tamaki's ear. "What a dumpling… you are," and Tamaki turned to see a gloriously attired, red-haired maiden standing too close to his face.

(Maybe we should get gold… eye things? I was trying to point to my eyes with my eyes)

Tamaki looked at the man with many questions in his blinking, violet eyes. It wasn't until after the red-head's face came even closer and ripped the apple, with his own teeth, from Tamaki's mouth that Tamaki realized an apple was… in his mouth… or had been. Now the reaper was indulging himself with it.

Another thing Tamaki hadn't realized was that he had taken a bite of that apple and was chewing it… in that very moment, soon to be swallowed. Tamaki didn't know that that apple was poisoned.

…

"… that was it?" Tamaki asked as he calmly rose from his lying position on a couch.

"Another died… Not surprising," Kyoya mused.

"All I did was eat ONE bite of an apple, not even the whole thing… and I didn't even know I was eating it until it was stolen! I didn't even get to kiss Haruhi!" and so Tamaki fell to the floor in utmost distress, rolling about in a deranged manner, balling his eyes out.

"Shocking," Haruhi said.

"So who's next?" Kyoya wanted to know.

"That can't be it!" Tamaki wailed.

"You died, you only get one chance," Kyoya spoke in his signature bored manner.

"Bitches ain't hoes," the Undertaker suddenly sat up from his prone position on the floor, it was obvious to Sebastian that Undies was becoming homesick; he really missed his coffins.

(Bitches ain't hoes = I miss my coffins… yep)

"Ah… I suppose since no one else seems to be interested, I'll get it over with," Kyoya volunteered as tribute, holding up three fingers to the air before gently setting his clipboard onto the desk. He gave it one last glance before turning towards the door.

"My life is over!" Tamaki yelled.

"Boss, calm down, you can just kiss Haruhi for real," Kaoru spoke in a soothing manner.

"NO!" Hikaru and Haruhi both yelled.

And Kyoya walked through the door.

…

He heard the resounding caw of a crow, a scraggily warble. He hated it. Just like he hated standing here in the too-green grass, smelling the spicy incense, before the twin gravestones holding the beloved Yuuichi and the secondly beloved Akito Ootori. What Kyoya couldn't quite understand was the fact that he was the only one attending his brothers' funeral. His father was currently indisposed of, having to remain behind to deal with the matter of the will, and of course get the company back on track, out of its momentary depression. His mother was grief stricken, at home, in bed, unwilling to admit that the sun had risen on another normal day, without her sons. Excluding Kyoya, of course, but the only ones his mother had deemed to care about were, unfortunately for her, gone. And his sister… well, she must be running late.

Kyoya looked up, and saw that running was exactly what she was doing. Her black skirts fluttered with each stride, like that of unmanageable bird wings. Kyoya thought about smiling towards the only sibling he believed he loved, but, in the end, it was too much trouble, so he didn't. He figured, once she got closer, that it was good that he hadn't smiled; she looked so sad today. She came up to him, wrapped her thin arms around Kyoya's waist and squeezed, hugging him tight.

She didn't let go, and Kyoya couldn't decide if it was nice or disgusting. He had never been one to like the physicality of being a person, but he had never refused his sister when she had needed someone, and she had never refused him… when he was younger and less assured than this older version of him was. He never needed her now, or at least, that's what he forced himself to believe.

He stood there for a few moments, wondering if she were ever going to let him go, wondering if it were wrong to be thinking he didn't really want her to. Then he noticed a little long-legged monster creeping across his sister's shoulder; though monster was probably the wrong term, Kyoya realized, because that's not how he saw it at all. The legs were so long, so elegant with its tiny hairs catching the light, glistening. Eight rubies were the eyes, shining onyx were the fangs. Such a beautiful creature with such deadly assets. He allowed his arms to slowly snake around his sister's frame, one hand slinking upwards until it resided on Fuyumi's shoulder. The spider, as if drawn in by the invasion of Kyoya's presence, charged his fingers, but once there, didn't stop, traveling up Kyoya's sleeve. And for some reason, Kyoya didn't mind.

"Someone's coming," his sister said, pulling away quickly.

Kyoya turned to see who it was, wondering if it was, perhaps, his sister's husband, but it wasn't. Or was it? Fuyumi left Kyoya's side and met her husband with open arms; Kyoya looked away before they met.

It was odd, he thought, that Shido-san was hooded in the way he was, eyes glowing a fierce red… that wasn't right. Kyoya looked back and saw them walking toward him, Shido-san was just as nondescript as always. That is until his russet eyes rose to meet Kyoya's, an evil smile graced the pale man's mouth and he suddenly looked so much more regal than he usually did. Before he could study the strange expression any longer, there came a sharp pain to his left hand. Kyoya looked down and saw the little monster, looking rather giddy, poised on his afflicted hand. He flicked his wrist and the little beast was gone.

When Kyoya looked back up, Shido-san and his sister were also gone. He looked back at his hand and he could see black under his skin. His eyes widened, the first thought coming to his mind was poison. The black began to swirl, began to take on another form, five points, a circle encasing them. Swirling blackness drowned him.

…

He didn't know. Until someone told him.

"You're finally awake," his sister's smile was the first thing he vaguely saw. "This fever came out of nowhere."

"It gave us quite a shock," Shido-san drawled from the doorway.

Kyoya's room was dark. Darker than he remembered it being. His windows were draped in some sort of dark lacey material that Kyoya never would've picked for himself, in fact, it clashed terribly with the rest of his room. The light that managed to creep in didn't reach the corners of his boudoir, but he could almost see those corners gleaming with spun darkness. Which he realized didn't make much sense, but his eyes had never been the greatest. He wondered where his glasses had gone.

Something needed to happen, Kyoya just knew it. Something needed to be done. But what?

"I'm quite fine now. Have you seen my glasses?" Kyoya asked.

"Oh Kyoya!" It was Tamaki, dressed in maid's attire, his lips painted a bright shade, like a bright red berry, his stuffed breasts bouncing. "I know you've been having such a hard time! Taking over the family business, so much work!"

"Why're you here?" Kyoya said. His sister and her husband were suddenly nowhere to be found. "And why're you wearing maid's clothes?"

"I just wanted to make you feel comfortable," Tamaki smiled coyly.

"And how on earth did you plan on doing that? You do realize your front is stuffed don't you?"

"…The twins told me this was suitable wear! They told me it'd make me look manlier!" Tamaki cried.

"Did they?"

"I just wanted to impress Haruhi!"

"She's not even here." Kyoya flopped back onto his pillows.

"She's on her way!" Tamaki raised his fist in the air.

"How do you know?"

"I read her diary!" Tamaki held up two fingers in victory.

"Do you mean her planner? She doesn't have a diary." Kyoya smiled to himself.

"How would you know that?!"

"He just does," Haruhi stated from the way of the door.

Kyoya's eyes flew open. Little good that did him though, without his glasses. His hand, seemingly of its own accord, flopped onto his side table, right on top of his glasses. He should've just checked there earlier, how nearsighted of him. Once his glasses were back in place, he had to smirk; Tamaki looked worse than he'd thought. The twins had done a marvelous job in making the king look like a cheap hooker. So the twins had been thinking of him. Meaning Kyoya.

"Hm…" Kyoya laughed. "Well Tamaki, since you came all this way to impress our lovely Haruhi, why don't you go make us some tea… and change."

"Why…Why would I make tea for the likes of you!?" Tamaki bellowed.

"Listen to Mommy," Kyoya grinned when Tamaki's mouth fell open, but, surprisingly, the once-blond bimbo left with a flounce of his skirts. "I'm not sure how he's fooled so easily."

"You'd think he'd learn his lesson," Haruhi said as she came into the room.

Kyoya promptly got himself out of bed and straightened his shirt. He was glad to see that only the black suit jacket, tie and shoes of his former ensemble had been removed, so he looked much like his regular put together self, exempting the fact that his shirt was untucked. He looked up and found Haruhi looking at him, her big brown eyes seeming just as all-consuming as ever. There wasn't pity evident in those eyes, which he found refreshing, though the fact that she probably knew he wasn't much upset by the sudden death of both his older brothers was perhaps not so refreshing. He tended to like keeping his secrets his.

"This is rather nostalgic," Haruhi said, and turned to shut the door. When she turned back, she looked just as serious.

"Is it?" Kyoya asked.

"You taught me a lesson the last time we were alone together like this," she said, just as monotonous as ever. "It's been a long time since then."

"So it has," Kyoya said, and sat back down on his bed. Haruhi joined after a moment, though he wasn't sure why.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

Kyoya paused, his mind searching for the right words to say, words that wouldn't seem as awful as his imagining. Haruhi's hand grasping his brought him out of his thoughts, his eyes darting towards hers in surprise. Had Haruhi ever reached out to him like this? His eyes fluttered behind his glasses, because he realized, that a touch like this, he didn't really mind.

"Don't lie Kyoya, just tell me the truth," Haruhi said, she had become so serious over the years. Now an attorney, finally accomplishing her dream, Haruhi had become even more serious it seemed, though perhaps a little nosier, which Kyoya found rather depressing since he wasn't very fond of the nosy sort of people. He wondered sometimes what kind of old woman she would be; it wasn't a thought that troubled him often, obviously, but sometimes, times like this, he wondered. But of course he never dwelled on this sort of thing, because then he'd also have to wonder where he would be in her elderly life, and he didn't like to think about that.

"When have I ever been happy?" Kyoya replied, but he was smiling at her. He didn't move his hand; he wasn't sure he wanted to. Her skin was soft and her hand was small; it could hardly wrap around his.

"Kyoya," Haruhi said, exasperation playing on her delicate features and evident in her tone.

"What? You said not to lie."

"Now you're just avoiding the question," She stated, taking her hand away from his. A sudden chill came over him with the absence of her skin against his. It was the first time he realized how perfectly his old nickname portrayed him: Kyoya, the Cool Type.

Kyoya sighed, "Haruhi, you obviously think you already know the answer, so why don't you tell me? Am I happy?" he got up from his bed, going to his closet and removed a blazer from one of the hangers. He turned around and found Haruhi watching him, a little frown causing the skin between her brows to wrinkle.

Before she could answer, the bedroom door burst open, a golden light invading the gloom. Neither Haruhi nor Kyoya looked towards their intruder, because they already knew exactly who it was. He really made it far too easy to tell.

"The tea has arrived!" he carried a tray, the cups wobbling atop it, threatening to spill at any given moment; if he kept moving so robustly they would certainly spill. It was a given. Moment.

"Did you really bring something so messy into my bedroom, Tamaki?" Kyoya asked, unaffected as he retied the tie around his neck; he was well accustomed to Tamaki's actions and even more so to calling in a maid to clean up after the once-blond buffoon. Thankfully, though, Tamaki was no longer wearing the maid costume or the hideous makeup. The clothing he had on at the moment, however, was not what you'd expect from a businessman. He wore jeans, ripped jeans that fitted nicely to his long, sculpted legs, a white v-neck bringing out the olive tones in his skin and the veins that ran across the firmness of his arms. Dog tags hung from his Grecian neck – though Kyoya knew that the only things on those tags were the name of his mother and FATHER, in bold letters - a leather wristband wrapped around his wrist.

"You told me to bring it!" Tamaki barked.

Haruhi took one look in Tamaki's direction and scowled. She stood, looked back at Kyoya and said: "I'll see you later Kyoya-sempai." He didn't miss her return to formal speech.

Kyoya didn't respond. He only watched as she left, shutting the bedroom door behind her. He raised an eyebrow at that; it was almost as if she were trying to block out Tamaki as quickly as she was able. What had happened between them? Kyoya looked back at the now auburn haired Tamaki; Kyoya would never understand why Tamaki had chosen to dye his hair, he thought it was stupid. Why would someone want to replace gold with dirt? Haruhi's hair, Kyoya could understand, she was born to dirt, dirt poor anyway… but he had never seen her hair that way, honestly, he had always imagined chocolate, bitter-sweet reminiscence.

"Guess she's still mad at me, huh?" Tamaki asked, a small smile on his lips, his eyes downcast. Kyoya knew that look; it was the look Tamaki always wore when he was trying to conceal the sadness that he held inside.

"Why's she mad?" Kyoya asked, his voice sounding uninterested, when in reality, he was pretty curious.

Tamaki looked up, his head tilting ever so slightly as he began to take a step closer to his icy friend. He didn't notice the house shoes in front of him. He slipped, fell on his face, and the tray of tea and other things spilled all over the floor.

Kyoya had been expecting this. He finally finished dressing to his full potential when he turned around to see the mess behind him. Tamaki's butt stood straight in the air, his face was smothered by fluffy carpet, his fingers twitching. Kyoya realized that he'd probably never get an answer about Haruhi and that Tamaki was just as stupid even with the change of hair color. He couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at his lips as Tamaki righted himself and looked down at the mess and his shirt front with disdain.

"I'll just call the maid," Kyoya said, and he did.

"Haruhi refused me," Tamaki said, standing and running his fingers through his hair.

"Refused you… how?"

"I asked her to marry me," Tamaki admitted with a huff.

Kyoya was somewhat taken aback, but the smirk staid in place. "You weren't even dating."

"We might as well've been! Besides, we're getting old, look, I'm getting crow's feet... Crow's feet!" Tamaki bellowed, and Kyoya almost laughed, but caught himself. It was almost hard to believe Tamaki even knew what those were.

"Oh yes, and I'm getting smile lines," Kyoya said.

"You are?" Tamaki seemed elated.

"Stupid, we're not that old."

"And you don't smile enough…"

The two of them stood there, looking at each other, both of them feeling the distance and the things between them. The broken cookies, spilt tea soaking into the carpet, those miles of carpet they both stood on, bare toes feeling its slight give, the soft-yet-firm texture, some stains that couldn't be removed. Kyoya stopped tucking in his shirt to look at his longtime friend, those violet eyes staring back at his as if they knew something, but Kyoya was tired of being fooled by them. That boy knew absolutely nothing.

"You're glad aren't you?" Tamaki said.

"About Haruhi? No, I've always known she wouldn't pick me, I'm not ingenuous like some people," Kyoya said.

"No, I meant about your brothers," Tamaki said.

Kyoya looked down at the scattered mess on the floor for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm not sure, honestly," he said and when he looked up he could see the shock in Tamaki's eyes. Of course, Kyoya always knew, was always certain, had an answer. "But I do know one thing: the problem with this whole situation is… now, I can do anything I want," and Kyoya traversed the carpet, coming right up to Tamaki, shoving the taller boy up against the wall and taking a fist-full of Tamaki's newly stained shirt, the dog tags clinking against each other.

"Do you know," Kyoya said, his eyes sparking darkly. "We're enemies now."

"What?" Tamaki breathed.

"More than before that girl," Kyoya continued.

"Haruhi?"

"Yes her, before you won and I could give up, now, I can't lose," Kyoya said this harsher than he had said anything before to Tamaki.

"Kyoya, I don't get it," Tamaki said, as if he were pleading.

"Our companies, Tamaki," Kyoya answered softly, his fingers loosening on what they held.

Tamaki stared a moment, his eyes slowly crinkling in a smile. Maybe he was getting crow's feet. "We won't be enemies. You're my best friend, Kyoya."

Kyoya felt his Adams apple bob as he swallowed. The air felt suddenly charged. He cleared his throat, taking a step back, releasing his hold on the other male completely. "I liked it better when you were blond." The air felt less.

"You don't like it?" Tamaki asked, not sounding offended, just a bit surprised. "I could dye it back."

"Do whatever you want," Kyoya spoke dismissively, turning away; he didn't like what he felt inside him when he looked at Tamaki now. Something was different, something wasn't right.

"You know, Kyoya, if our companies are what you're worried about then I'll just pull away from what you want. I won't fight against you," Tamaki said, and Kyoya could hear the smile in his voice.

"Idiot." It was no more than a breath.

"Huh?" Tamaki was laughing for some inane reason.

"You're such an idiot!" Kyoya said, maybe louder than he intended, and he shoved Tamaki against the wall again, both hands pressed firmly to Tamaki's shoulders, Kyoya's head tilted back just the slightest bit so he could look into his friend's eyes.

"Kyoya…" Tamaki looked down with concern, which only pissed Kyoya off more. Tamaki wasn't afraid, not surprised, but concerned; Kyoya could see that clearly.

"What, you don't think I'd win!? You think I'd throw a fit every time I lost something to you!? I'll make my company better than you could ever even try!" He yelled.

Tamaki smiled, again. "I have no doubt of that… To be honest, the only thing I'm better at is serving women," his voice was all too comical.

Kyoya looked away from Tamaki's smiling face, down at their feet, and breathed out a huff of air, trying to calm himself. "You know… something about you has always bothered me," and he looked up again, and Tamaki wasn't smiling. "After all these years, twelve – to be exact, I haven't been able to figure it out, what is it about you that bothers me so much?" he took in Tamaki's expression again, it was verging on apprehension, Kyoya's eyes snagged on the upset line of Tamaki's lips. A small, almost pout, but not quite. "Maybe I can finally figure it out… After all, I can do whatever I want now."

The height between them was no more than an inch, and it took no more than a second to close the remaining distance. One of Kyoya's hands took hold of the back of Tamaki's neck, forcing the taller one's head down. Kyoya wasn't what you would call inexperienced, not in the slightest, but this was different, out of his element and… it was Tamaki. Their lips crashed together, as did their bodies – which wasn't planned, but Kyoya somehow lost his footing. Kyoya didn't expect to feel the rock hard abdomen he crashed into. He was no softy either, but compared to Tamaki…

Before Kyoya was able to engage Tamaki, he felt hands grab at his waist and they pushed him away, with such force he couldn't catch his footing and stumbled to the ground. He stayed where he was when Tamaki walked to the door with the obvious intent of leaving, but before the once-blond could, there was a sharp, very quick, knock on the door, then it burst open and whacked Tamaki right in the face. He flumped to the floor in a pile of nicely shaped arms and legs.

"Meyrin VI, why didn't you send Chinchin up?" Kyoya asked as he stood.

"I'm so sorry young mastah! She's busy so she sent me up instead!... Why're you both on the floor?" Meyrin VI asked, oblivious to the fact that she was the reason for Tamaki's sudden comatose state.

"Never mind that… Just clean up this mess… I'll take care of this one," Kyoya replied, his eyes moving towards his unconscious friend.

He waited several moments until he realized that the only way he could clean up the mess at hand, was to get his friend off the damn floor. So he did just that. He flung Tamaki over his shoulder and, with several stumbles, he was finally able to cart his friend over to the immaculacy of his bed. The sound of swishing silk filled the room.

Kyoya stared at Tamaki's innate form while Meyrin VI quietly grunted in her efforts to rid the room of filth. Then with a sudden slam of the door, she was gone, and Kyoya and Tamaki were alone once again. Kyoya inspected the fine planes of his friend's face, his eyes breaking away suddenly with a slight shake of his head. What was he thinking? He didn't really know, so he pulled up a chair and sat, situated with a perfect vantage point of Tamaki. He stared, slouching a bit in his chair, because he was feeling so overloaded with confusion, he wasn't quite himself.

He wondered for a moment why Tamaki was taking such a harsh toll on his mind on this particular day. The idiot hadn't plagued him like this since… never. His eyes suddenly became wider as something came, rushing in at full force in his mind. None of this was really happening. How could any of this really happen? This was all in his head. It had to be. He could do whatever he wanted and it wouldn't change anything. So why shouldn't he explore this world in a way he could never permit himself in The Real? So that's exactly what he did. He rose from his chair, the move languid and stealthy, as if he believed he'd wake his unconscious friend. His hand fell gently to the bed, the covers dipping with the weight he applied to it and he stared for a moment more. Before he could think twice he brought himself down, and stopped. What was he doing?

He felt hot. All over. His eyes suddenly burned and he blinked several times… but it was as if fire had taken him over. He felt that same strange heat in his hand again, like poison filling his veins and when he squinted down at his hand, all he saw was a blur. He ripped the glasses from his face, and could see the veins in his hand, his wrist, his whole arm, turning black. Words started dancing in his mind…

Passion to calm, hesitation to resolve, love to gravestones…

To be continued… ^.^ haha


	18. Spiders in a Trance

He needed to know what was happening to him and he needed to know now. He was in his car -not driving of course, he had someone for that- dialing a number he knew all too well. Just as the line connected, the first few big drops of rain fell on to the windshield.

"Grell, is there an opening for today?" Kyoya asked once the ringing had stopped. He knew Grell was listening, he could tell, because he heard the slight intake of breath from the other line. He also knew that Grell was obviously smiling.

"Of course! Come on over to the usual spot, I'll be waiting by our window. Tootaloo!" Grell's laugh was cut short by Kyoya's thumb tapping lightly on the 'end call' button.

"Louis, to The Perk," was all Kyoya had to say, and they were speeding away from the mansion and the still unconscious Tamaki.

…

Kyoya didn't waste any time. He didn't even order any coffee. As he entered The Perk, he saw, from the corner of his vision, a flash of bright red and he traversed straight for it.

"What's on your mind, Kyoya?" Grell, Kyoya's psychologist, asked as soon as Kyoya had taken a seat. Grell was hardly himself. Whenever it came to his current profession, he became a whole other being it seemed. He took it seriously. Mostly.

"I can't really tell…"

Grell didn't buy it. He crossed his legs under the table and folded his hands together, very unlike himself indeed. "Remember, Kyoya, you called me," Grell said, bringing his cappuccino to his puckered lips and taking a dainty sip, his pinky extended, just so. The gesture all too like that one friend who was currently unconscious in Kyoya's bed.

"I think you know what this is about," Kyoya said.

"How could I? You haven't even said anything… useful," Grell giggled.

"Don't play coy, you know. Don't pretend like you're normal."

"But Kyoya, I don't believe you're quite normal now either… So tell me, what is it that's troubling you exactly?" Grell spoke, raising the cup in front of him to his lips once again, this drink much longer than the first.

Kyoya looked out the window not even seeing the gray falling from the sky or the wet stains on the concrete, unsure if he really wanted to talk about this anymore. A silence incased them for several seconds, until Grell swooned.

"Oh I just love it when it burns my tongue!" The redhead burst out.

"I sometimes wonder if this profession is suitable for you," Kyoya drawled.

"Oh don't say that, it's bad for my ego," Grell said. "So this is about Tamaki isn't it? Not your beastly brothers right?"

"Right and…" Then he leaned in slightly. "There's something wrong with me…"

"Being gay?"

"No… I'm not… well… that's not what I mean," He explained, his normally calm self slowly dissipating.

"No? Then what?" Grell asked, keeping the calm that had enveloped him specifically for this outing.

"I've been feeling rather strange as of late," he pressed his middle finger to the skin between his brows, realizing too late that he wasn't wearing his glasses.

"Yes, I've been wondering where your glasses are," Grell said.

"I don't need them…" Kyoya spoke softly. And as Grell began blabbing about what Kyoya should do, Kyoya looked out the window again registering the down pour that was now falling in sheets, gray and dismal as the sky; a complete contrast to what Grell was suggesting.

"…You see, if you were just to explore that part of yourself, just a little, I think it would be beneficial…"

Kyoya wasn't sure if it was that great of an idea, but he figured it was exactly what he needed to do. Change had already been put in motion; he might as well dive right in and change everything while he had the chance.

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?" Grell asked.

"Of course," Kyoya replied coolly. "I'm a wonderful listener."

"Then why haven't you told me to quit my job? You tell me at least seven times a visit."

"Because I think your suggestion is exactly what I need."

There was a pause in which Kyoya sat perfectly still and Grell practically rippled with excitement, just like the puddles outside.

"You have to video it," Grell said. "From every angle."

"That's absurd."

"Oh, and why? How come? I WANNA SEE IT!" Grell screeched and slammed his fist on the table, causing the cappuccino to jump in its cup.

"Well, it'll cost you," Kyoya said as his stood.

"So you'll video it?" Grell asked.

"Thank you, Grell. Until next time," and Kyoya turned to leave.

"You always say 'next time,' but I never know when that is!" Grell whined. "So you're really going to video it?" Grell kept calling after Kyoya. "Will there really be a next time?" But Kyoya was already out the door.

...

Once Kyoya got home, his mind was set, his steps sure, and his eyes locked in the direction of his room, the direction of his desire. The door swung without a sound, and the bed was still occupied by a languid, insentient Tamaki. He took a step in, his eyes never leaving his captive even as he shut the door silently behind him. As he walked across the carpet, he could feel the remaining crumbles of cookies sticking to his feet; he hoped his feet weren't clammy. Then he was next to Tamaki, towering over his lounging friend and the slightly rumpled down comforter. It was a rather pretty picture; Kyoya couldn't help thinking as he eyed Tamaki's brown curls of tousled hair gracing the white pillow, that sculpted chest hiding beneath the thin material of Tamaki's shirt.

Kyoya reached out a tentative hand, his slim fingers taking an unruly curl between them, feeling the smooth softness of Tamaki's once-golden hair; it wasn't as soft as Kyoya remembered. Damn chemicals. His fingers suddenly didn't seem to need any command, they moved of their own accord, down the forgiving curve of Tamaki's cheek… Then he moved. Tamaki yawned widely and turned onto his side, Kyoya watched, lifting an eyebrow. He shrugged, taking off the black jacket that accented his frame so nicely, hanging it before he returned to the position of gazing upon his friend. His fingers plied at the tie around his neck, not completely removing it.

The bed dipped with his weight as he positioned himself gently behind Tamaki, curving his body against Tamaki's, molding to him. Kyoya let his arms snake around Tamaki's ribcage, his hands freely exploring the line that ran down Tamaki's middle: the dip between those muscled pectorals, the ridges of those glorious abs. He liked the feel of the soft material and hard beneath it, but he knew he'd like the fabric of Tamaki's flesh much more.

Just as Kyoya was preparing himself for the feel of flesh on flesh, Tamaki sighed, stopping Kyoya in his tracks. Tamaki stirred against Kyoya's body, signaling that he was about to wake and Kyoya wasn't sure what to do, so he stayed put.

"Ha…Haruhi?" Tamaki asked, his voice full of sleep, sounding sweet, but it made Kyoya cringe to hear him say her name. "It's not you is it?" Tamaki asked, sounding all too like a child.

"Would Haruhi do something like this?" Kyoya asked, speaking softly into Tamaki's hair, his eyes closing as he took in Tamaki's fragrance.

"Kyoya?" there was a pause. "You're being strange today."

"That's what I thought too."

They didn't move for a moment. Then Kyoya gripped Tamaki's shirt, pulling it up a bit, and Tamaki didn't do anything. So Kyoya didn't stop. He could feel warm, slept-in skin against his knuckles. He opened his hands, feeling the warmth against his palms, all the while breathing against Tamaki's heated neck. One of Kyoya's hands traversed the expanse of Tamaki's torso, climbing up through Tamaki's shirt until Kyoya's hand gripped the other's neck just beneath the jaw, a gentle press. He swore he could feel Tamaki's pulse quicken.

"Kyoya," Tamaki breathed. "What're you doing?"

"I don't know," was Kyoya's harried reply.

He couldn't stop. He kept a firm hold on Tamaki's neck as his other hand went down, the tips of his fingers gripping the button of Tamaki's jeans. Then it opened.

"Kyoya!" Tamaki called out in alarm, pushing at Kyoya's hand, but the hand came right back, grasping at their initial interest through Tamaki's pants. "K-Kyoya…?" Tamaki gasped.

"I need to figure something out, and you're going to help me," Kyoya said, his hand maneuvering past Tamaki's garments.

Tamaki gasped again, shivering against Kyoya's hand, encouraging Kyoya's efforts. The dark-haired one was breathing heavily, feeling himself respond to the warmth Tamaki offered, the smell of Tamaki's hair was intoxicating, his neck beneath it was strained but no less kissable, and his ear was turning pink, begging to be devoured. Kyoya nibbled at the soft, pink flesh of Tamaki's earlobe. He could feel Tamaki's body shudder against him. The hand that gripped Tamaki's neck moved stealthily down, until his fingers brushed curiously against the other's collarbones. With the lack of restraint, Tamaki made a move, trying to get away, but he had become weak and Kyoya was ready.

"Don't move, Tamaki," Kyoya breathed into the other's ear.

"Kyo…Kyoya, please stop," Tamaki whined, asking to be released… his tone begging for relief.

But Kyoya didn't and Tamaki quivered, moaning in anguish, his hand gripping at Kyoya's, who didn't let up. Kyoya could feel Tamaki tensing, but it wasn't the tensing he'd been anticipating because in another moment, Tamaki was kicking and ripping himself from Kyoya's grasp. The shirt was ruined, Kyoya hit the floor with a thud and Tamaki was sprinting to the door. But Kyoya reacted quickly, maybe quicker than he normally would've, and they were both on the floor. Kyoya landed between Tamaki's legs, pressing down on Tamaki's shoulders with his palms, his breathing ragged, uneven, matching Tamaki's.

"Tamaki," Kyoya exhaled. "I'm not trying to hurt you… I just… I need this."

Tamaki stared up into Kyoya's inky eyes, his amethyst gaze slowly shifting from horror to something like acceptance. Kyoya could feel all of Tamaki's resistance dissipate as he relaxed against his hands. His hands that had been on Tamaki's shoulders moved reluctantly, not sure if Tamaki would fight back again or not. He didn't. He trailed down Tamaki's sides, feeling the ridges of muscled ribs, then up Tamaki's middle until they stopped, gently cupping Tamaki's cheeks.

He didn't wait long; he looked again into Tamaki's eyes then leaned slowly down, brushing his lips against Tamaki's. He pulled away, for only a moment, finding Tamaki looking dazed through his thick eyelashes. Their lips met again. Tamaki's arms found their way around Kyoya's neck. That was all the encouragement Kyoya needed, he pressed against Tamaki, shoving his tongue into Tamaki's mouth, Tamaki's tongue being just as adventurous. Kyoya inhaled, his breathing sounding thick in his own ears. He didn't want to stop so he bit Tamaki's bottom lip, maybe a little harder than he intended, a metallic tang invading his mouth.

"Ah-ow," Tamaki exhaled against Kyoya's lips, but didn't pull away. Kyoya kissed down Tamaki's face, smudging his cheek with red, until he got to the other's neck. He could hear Tamaki's sharp intake of breath then the sweet exhale of acquiescence. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin, Tamaki's hands moving to the buttons that held Kyoya's shirt closed. The shirt was gone, across the room in seconds, being replaced with the exploration of large hands. Kyoya couldn't deny the exhilaration he felt as Tamaki's hands danced across his skin, and he couldn't stop wanting more than Tamaki's neck against his lips. He ran his teeth over Tamaki's Adam's apple gaining a tremor and a gasp.

Kyoya's lips moved to Tamaki's collarbone and Tamaki's hands began a slow descent. There was a momentary pause in Kyoya's transgressions, and a complete halt as Tamaki's fingers began pulling at the button then the zipper of Kyoya's pants. He waited, immobile, as Tamaki's expectant breath ruffled Kyoya's hair.

"Kyoya," Tamaki's voice was almost calm. "Kiss me."

Kyoya waited a moment as Tamaki continued to breathe, just beneath him, then he complied, moving up to Tamaki's lips and taking them with his. He tried to ignore the quickening of his own pulse and focus on kissing the indulgent lips of his friend… his friend… He liked what his friend was doing, and it was in that moment that he realized he didn't really want Tamaki as his friend at all. Tamaki's fingers finally reached their destination and Kyoya broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Tamaki's, seething trough his teeth. What am I doing? Tamaki kissed the corner of Kyoya's mouth and Kyoya pulled away completely, sitting up, looking down at Tamaki, whose hand was still occupied.

"What're you doing?" Tamaki sounded so innocent.

But Kyoya didn't answer, and it seemed Tamaki wasn't expecting one anyway. Kyoya suddenly noticed Tamaki's torso flex and before he knew it, Tamaki was sitting up, climbing into Kyoya's lap, taking Kyoya in his arms and kissing Kyoya's neck. They were warm, wet kisses and Kyoya couldn't help but respond. His hands moved to Tamaki's back and felt the dip of his spine, following it to the rim of Tamaki's pants, the rim of Tamaki's boxers. Tamaki tensed as Kyoya persisted, a hiss later erupted against Kyoya's jugular. Why do I like this?

Tamaki seemed to be having trouble with what he had been doing…

"That… hurts," Tamaki growled, his chest falling against Kyoya's, both of his hands gripping Kyoya's biceps as he panted.

"These… are in the way," Kyoya said, stopping, before pushing Tamaki back onto the floor. The pants came off, and Kyoya's too, and they stared at each other for a moment. They'd seen each other void of clothes before, but this was different and the sight only fueled their longing. Tamaki was the first to move, pulling Kyoya down to him forcefully, their lips crashing together, their hands roving over each other in manic, possessive strokes. They breathed against each other, straining for air.

"Touch me," Tamaki begged.

Kyoya complied, taking Tamaki in his hand…

Tamaki pulled away from Kyoya's mouth and moved to his neck, his mouth wide against Kyoya's flesh.

Kyoya's eyes began to burn, his skin caught fire, and his pace around Tamaki quickened. He felt different. He wanted this too much. Tamaki writhed underneath him… Kyoya stopped, he pulled away, crawling backwards, his breath ragged.

"Kyoya?" Tamaki asked.

"That's enough," Kyoya rasped.

"You don't like it?" Tamaki asked.

Kyoya didn't reply, just stood up to retrieve his clothes.

"You can't leave me in this position! In this situation!" Tamaki whined. "Look… at this situation!" and Kyoya did turn and he saw the muscled Tamaki pointing at his erect self.

"I don't need to look," Kyoya replied flippantly.

"Because you know… You can't just stop like this, Kyoya!"

"I know, I'll send up a maid to take care of you," Kyoya said, buttoning his pants and heading for the door.

"No, Kyoya, I don't want them, whoever… Where are you going? Don't leave," Tamaki was behind Kyoya now, placing a hand on the door.

"Move," Kyoya said, not looking at Tamaki.

"No. Don't go."

"Move!" Kyoya said, opening the door with much force, more than he realized he had; he threw the shirt he'd grabbed at Tamaki and ran down the hall, leaving his friend behind.

"Kyoya!"

…

That's how he'd arrived at her apartment door, shirtless, dripping with rain, breathless, without his dignity. He pressed the doorbell a second time, hoping she was home. In just a few more seconds, he could hear the doorknob jiggling. He straightened his posture subconsciously, a habit, but as soon as he saw her, he could feel himself relaxing. He entered without saying anything, without invitation, and took her in his arms.

"Kyoya?" she asked; she didn't push away.

"There's something wrong with me," he said, taking a quick breath. "My eyes are burning."

"What?"

"My eyes."

"Go sit down, I'll make some tea."

"Don't bother with that cheap stuff," he said but he came in and sat at her little kotatsu.

"I'm making some," Haruhi said and got to work.

Kyoya sat in silence, blinking down at the worn table-top; he could feel himself slumping. He wondered how deeply he'd ruined things with Tamaki, or if he hadn't. He wondered how he could live with it, if he could at all. Why did I do that? His eyes really were burning now though, it was rather annoying.

"So, wanna tell me why you're dressed like that?" Haruhi asked.

"Not especially," Kyoya said, rubbing his eyes.

"I think I have some old sweats of my dads', come with me," she said, not waiting for him, heading for her room. He followed and as soon as he made it through her door, she threw a pair of ratty sweats at his face. "Put those on," she said and left the room, shutting the door behind her. He wished she hadn't left him. But he did what she said, and went back to the other room when he was done.

"This is possibly the smallest apartment I've ever been in," he said when he'd sat down again.

"Some people don't need mansions to be happy."

"You're probably right about that," Kyoya conceded.

"So what's wrong?" Haruhi asked, setting a cup of tea in front of him.

Kyoya took the warm cup in his hands, squinting down into it.

"You're not wearing your glasses," Haruhi said. "Is that why your eyes hurt?"

"I don't need them."

"As if."

"I can see without them."

"How many fingers?" Haruhi asked, grinning. He gave her a quick quirk of the lips.

"Two."

She stared at him, still holding up her fingers, the grin slowly disappearing.

"Contacts?" she asked.

"You know I can't stand them," he said.

"Then how?"

"I don't know."

"Well… they look different," she said.

"Different?"

"They're not as dark, somehow," she said, wrinkling her brow the way she did when she was thinking hard. Kyoya reached out a hand and pressed a finger to her brow. "What's wrong with your hand?" she asked, and immediately took his left hand in hers. "What is this?"

His entire hand looked bruised, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed it before. Two little black holes on the back of his hand, where that little spider had bitten him at the cemetery, they bubbled up on his purple-blue, cracking skin.

"I swear it looked normal a second ago…" Haruhi mused.

"It's a spider bite," Kyoya said. "I forgot about it."

"How can you forget something like this?"

"It…doesn't hurt?" Kyoya said, unsure of himself.

Haruhi looked up at him questioningly, but got up and left for a moment. Kyoya waited for her, blinking down at his hand, waiting… and it started, that slow, cold sensation invading his veins, the purple in them turning to black, pumping up his arm. He had the sudden disturbing thought of black drowning his heart, turning all of him cold. All of him cold. Cold. He blinked. Cold. And Haruhi was back again, saying something, but the words bounced around in his head, not making sense. She didn't seem to notice the black flooding his arm as she pressed a wet cloth to his hand. It was hot. White, searing bright against him and he could feel himself rumbling with noise, screaming, but he couldn't hear it. Everything was bright, fixating, so bright, blinding but he couldn't close his eyes, not even when the dark in the corners started spinning, he couldn't close his eyes, not even when the dark turned silver, the fluidity of lines, silver bright and burning they invaded him, clawing up into him with creeping feet, delving themselves deep into his heart, those little beasts. He heard himself screaming.

"Kyoya! What is it? Kyoya-sempai, please tell me what's wrong!"

The floor was hard against his back.

…

The room was dark, lit just barely by the street lights outside her window and she was a soft shadow leaning over him. A cool cloth was pressed against his forehead, then against his neck, his cheek. She was so gentle, and she didn't realize he was awake. He liked it, so he didn't say anything for a few moments. Her fingers on his temple, a cool, tender touch. He watched her rub her own eyes, cover her mouth as she yawned.

He reached out a hand and softly took hold of her wrist.

"Kyoya?" she asked, but he didn't reply, he only pulled her down on top of him then slid her onto the bed itself so she was between him and a wall. "You're awake?" she asked, yawning.

"So it would seem," he spoke, smiling because he knew she couldn't see it.

She didn't move and neither did he.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said.

"There's this medic that lives above me, so I called him…"

"What'd he say?"

"Exhaustion," she said. "The spider bite was gone when he got here."

"Odd."

"Yeah," she yawned again.

"You should sleep."

"So should you."

"I'm in your bed," he said.

"Beds are for sleeping."

"And other things."

"You sound like the twins," she laughed.

"That might be the worst insult I've ever received," he said, with a soft smile.

They laid there in silence for a moment, the calm hushing sound of the rain falling outside the window. She was curled beside him, and he was curled around her. He ran his fingers through her long hair, feeling the silk of it, bringing his face down to her crown and burying his nose in it. She smelled sweet, clean, shampoo and coconut, that generic smell of commoners' shampoo.

"You're touching me this time," she said, her voice calm.

"This time?" he asked, moving down so he could look into her open eyes, her eyes that couldn't see in this darkness.

"The last time this sort of thing happened."

"Ah, that again."

"I miss all of us being that close," she said.

He wasn't sure what to tell her, because there was no way they could go back, and he didn't feel like disappointing her any more than he probably already had. His hand moved to her cheek, his thumb ran down the soft skin there until it met with her lips, pulling gently at her bottom lip. She didn't object, or pull away, she only looked into the dark, searching for him, but he knew she couldn't see.

"I've only ever missed you," Kyoya said, his voice a dusky whisper.

"Don't be ridiculous, what about your darling king?" she asked, he smiled at the hint of jealousy playing in her tone.

"Really, Haruhi? Where do you think that idiot spends his free time?"

"Did you know he asked me to marry him? We haven't been together since –" but she was cut off by the cool sweetness of his lips. Their lips pressed and she reached up and brought arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, rolling onto her back and bringing him with her so that his torso rested against hers. Her mouth moved on his, and he moved with her, teasing her with his tongue. It felt the same, but he didn't question it. His heart beat quickened when she moved her hands to his shoulders and felt his back, but he didn't question why, he kissed her harder. He bit her lip, kissed her cheek, her neck, her ear, moved her shirt so he could kiss her shoulder, and knew that this was all he could do with her. She wasn't really his.

"Nothing to gain," he whispered. "Isn't that what I said?" he asked.

Her breathing was warm on his face and smelt of peppermint. "Yes," she replied.

"And what is it that I would gain this time around?" he asked, feeling the slight burn of his eyes again.

She didn't say anything, just looked up at him with those dark-chocolate eyes, and he knew she could see him now because of the red glow that lit up her face.

He wished in that moment that she would've said something, anything: a snide remark, a whisper of sweet infidelity, a word, anything. He wished she would've kissed him again and let him hold her until she fell asleep. He wished she would've done something other than what she did.

She screamed. Terrified.

…

Kyoya woke up lying on the floor of The Room, everyone was gathered around him, looking rather worried. Especially Tamaki, who was about to explode from hysterics it seemed, he wouldn't stop spouting nonsense.

"Oh Kyoya! You were tossing and turning and flopping and flipping like a giant fish and we had no idea what to do and then you stopped and we thought you were dead!" Tamaki swooned.

"He thought you were dead," Hikaru said.

"We knew you weren't," Kaoru said.

"Are you ok?" Haruhi asked.

He looked up at her, and found her just as unaffected as always. That, at least, was encouraging.

"Fine," Kyoya replied and promptly stood up, brushing off his pants noticing that the room looked a bit smudged through his glasses. So he took them off; he could see fine. He walked back to The Desk to retrieve his handy dandy clipboard. When he reached out for it, he saw two twin pinholes in the back of his left hand.


	19. A Quartet and the Theatre

Everyone stood, their eyes following Kyoya as he picked up his clipboard. No one missed the sudden pause that came over Kyoya's movements after had removed his spectacles and looked down at his wrist. The twins exchanged a look whilst everyone else watched in concern. They had all been worried about him while he slept. His skin had become feverish; a sheen of sweat covering his form, and no one would ever forget the jolts that shook his body.

Haruhi was the first to move to his side, her fingers just barely brushing the fabric adorning his shoulder. "Kyoya, is everything alright?" She asked softly.

Kyoya blinked as reality rushed back to him, but how could it, when he could still see everything perfectly even without his glasses?

"Oh... I thought I was wearing a watch," Kyoya replied, pulling his jacket sleeve down, hiding the mysteries there. "Who's next?" He asked, changing the subject, but Haruhi kept thinking about what he could be hiding.

"I'll go," She announced.

Kyoya's eyes glanced at her.

"Are you sure?" Tamaki asked, his voice concerned.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I have to get it over with eventually anyway," She said, her voice apathetic in every way. "I'll be fine, I promise, senpai," she reassured once she saw Tamaki's worried face, his eyebrows knitted closely together. He cared for her still, she knew that. She cared for him as well; she just couldn't be his any longer.

And Haruhi walked through the door.

…

Cake was everywhere. Beneath her feet, squishy and sticky, going as far as her eyes could see. Cake to the horizon and back.

"Isn't this great, Haru-chan? We can eat as much as we want!" Honey-senpai was over there, swimming in icing, his Usa-chan trailing behind him.

"Yeah, if it wasn't all sweet," Haruhi said.

"Don't worry about that, we've set up this area with every kind of fancy dish you've never had the pleasure of trying," Kyoya said, his arrogance disguised in elegance. Now, even in her desire, his wrist was covered.

"What's under your sleeve?" Haruhi asked.

"We even have a hot tub!" said Hikaru.

"Filled with floating bowls of meat!" Kaoru added.

"Beef, pork, chicken…" Mori droned.

"Do you know what he's hiding?" Haruhi asked.

"Or maybe you prefer something more simple?" Tamaki wanted to know. "Over here we have this life-sized butter statue of Adonis, and stacks of fluffy bread just waiting for a commoner like you to smother with melted succulence!" Tamaki ended with a flourish, strutting towards Haruhi; he was only wearing an olive branch. It curved around his hips just so, the olives dangled in just the right place. Big, juicy olives. "Or maybe you'd rather eat the food off of mwaaaaah," the olive bearing man said whilst placing slender fingers to his olive toned chest.

"Don't worry, he's only hiding a brush," no one had noticed the butterman move to Kyoya's side, except Kyoya of course, who was cradled in the butterman's arms, the porcelain skin of his wrist exposed. "A toothbrush," the butterman said, holding up a toothbrush for all to see, but of course the only one looking was Haruhi.

"For later use," Kyoya explained.

"Why would I need a toothbrush?" Haruhi asked.

"It's not for you, it's for Honey," Kyoya said.

"Yeah," Mori agreed. "I love you, eat this," and Mori placed a perfect strawberry in Haruhi's hand.

"Uh…"

"Haruhi! Darling! Why are you stealing all of my playthings?" Grell cried, he was caged up in a peppermint prison, which he was licking in a furious manner, determination evident in the perspiration glistening his brow.

"No, Haruhi! Eat this!" The twins squealed in unison as they offered up plates filled with exotic questionables.

Haruhi reached out a hand, her lips gently parted in awe. But before she could make contact, another plate was shoved into her sight.

"EAT THIS HARU-CHAN!" It was Honey.

"Eat this! My love, my life, my munchkin!" Tamaki squealed, shoving a heavily buttered piece of bread against her nose, the butter greasing up her nostrils.

So. There she sat. A strawberry in her hand, butter shoved up her nose, and every boy she'd ever looked at fondly (except Grell, whose gender she still questioned) kneeling before her with platters in hand, waiting for her to choose. But would she? That was the ultimate question as she subconsciously turned away from all the boys, and before she left, she handed the strawberry to Honey.

…

"Why didn't I eat anything?" asked the somewhat distraught Haruhi as she stood just inside The Door to The Room. "I'm so hungry now…"

"I'll get you something!" Tamaki shouted.

"You can't leave," Kyoya reminded.

"I think I'll go next…" Kaoru said.

"Are you sure?" his brother's voice was concerned.

"Yeah," and Kaoru walked to the door.

…

He woke up in a bed, completely alone. He could feel the silk of his covers against his bare torso. The room was dark aside from the stream of light that floated in past the curtains.

"Kaoru!" light poured in, hurting Kaoru's eyes.

"Hikaru?" Kaoru asked, shielding his face with his arm.

"Well who else would it be? Come on I have the new looks I want to try on you, so hurry up!" Hikaru parted the curtains, more light flooding the room. Kaoru pulled the covers over his head. "Come on sleepy head, life is gonna pass you by!" Hikaru exclaimed all too cheerfully as he tackled his brother's covered form.

A muffled grunt was heard from under the blankets as Hikaru's hands searched for the body underneath. Kaoru flailed, because that's what people who are being squished are wont to do, but it didn't deter Hikaru. Oh no, he kept his seat quite well, riding the roiling wave of blanket and flopping limbs.

"Are you going to get up now?" he asked, the smile so present in his voice he might as well have been laughing.

"Yes! I'll get up!" Kaoru said, his voice still groggy.

When Hikaru got off him, he tossed the blanket aside, revealing a Kaoru clad in boxer-shorts and not much else. So then, obviously, Hikaru couldn't contain his brotherly love! They were rolling in feathers, pink ones, and soon, rose petals began floating down from the ceiling fan, the light mechanic breeze softly stirring the mix of pink and red. The room had seemingly transformed, peach light warming the boys' mostly naked bodies.

"Kaoru," Hikaru sighed.

"Hikaru," Kaoru sighed as well as they stared into each other's eyes, their cheeks blushing pastel. Hikaru hovered above his younger brother. Tackling and tickling wasn't an oddity among the two, but this sort of gaze with no audience was something a bit more rare. Kaoru couldn't say he didn't like it. In fact, he could feel the caterpillars in his stomach blooming into audacious butterflies flapping their wings flamboyantly within the bowels of his being. And as such, his eyelashes fluttered just so.

Hikaru's hand brushed Kaoru's cheek, lightly touched his nose to Kaoru's and said: "Come on, get up." And suddenly the feathers and flower petals and butterflies were gone. And as such, the fluttering eyelashes, halted.

He, Kaoru, was left alone in his bed, Hikaru-less. Then Kaoru got up, put on his pants and was a little bit not ok, but ok enough that he wasn't drowning in his own tears, so that was good. After he was done getting ready he headed out of his room, in search of his tease of a brother. He wasn't hard to find, considering Hikaru found him, his arms appearing out of nowhere, wrapping snuggly around Kaoru's slim waist.

"Finally, I thought you'd never get up," Hikaru expressed, nuzzling his face into the crook of Kaoru's neck. Kaoru could feel the hairs at his nape stand on end.

"You seem different somehow," Kaoru couldn't help but say as he allowed his body to relax in his brother's embrace. He could feel each breath Hikaru took, a soft breeze onto his skin. He closed his eyes. He always felt so safe in his older sibling's arms.

"Different? What are you talking about? I'm just excited to hang out with my two favorite people all day!"

Kaoru's eyes snapped open. Two? Obviously he was one of the favorites, but who else was there?

"Two?" Was the only word Kaoru could seem to form in that moment.

"Yeah, you and Haruhi," Hikaru replied, the hold he had around his brother slowly beginning to slip away.

Kaoru couldn't help but smile. How could he have expected anyone else? Of course it would be Haruhi; the only other person ever permitted entrance into the twin's world. Kaoru loved his brother and he loved Haruhi, but more than anything, he loved Hikaru and Haruhi together.

"Hey guys, are you ready to go?" A soft, boyish yet feminine voice asked.

The twins turned their heads, their smiles mirroring each other as they both gazed upon their favorite someone. Haruhi wore a pink summer dress that was purposely baggy in the front; Kaoru assumed that it was to hide the fact that she was so flat chested. Her hair was in long, soft chocolaty waves that spilled over her shoulders all the way to her tiny waist. She looked adorable, she looked beautiful and it took the boys' breath away.

"Yeah," Kaoru was the first to respond.

"Ok we can leave, but first… Kaoru, take your clothes back off!"

So he did.

…

Kaoru came back to consciousness trying to unbutton his shirt, his brother's hands over his, trying to stop him.

"You told me to take them off…" Kaoru drowsed

"The hell? No I didn't!" Hikaru said.

"Well, he did just come back from his desire," mused the red-haired manx/minx who was currently watching the twins with much interest.

"Well, I suppose that I'll get this idiotic thing over with. Really, Kyoya, I just don't understand you. Never have," and Honey walked to the door, opening it and closing it, Mori watching forlornly from his spot in The Corner.

…

There were women, wearing aprons and not much else and they were baking. Cake.

…

"So, how was it?" Mori asked as Honey came back from his chasm of unconsciousness.

Honey's newly matured form sat up, his eyes blinking as if he were trying to recall where exactly he was. He soon remembered. But didn't say anything.

"Oh, doodle-do! What's that poem with the wheelbarrow? Or wagon? With the dead chickens in it!" Undies singsonged as he waltzed with himself to the door. He was through it and slamming it before anyone noticed. Except for Sebastian, of course, who saw everything.

…

The sun-heated barren ground burned his feet through the thin leather sandals he wore, and the light alone would've been enough to blind him, but he was one of those odd ones who refused to cut his hair. It hung in his eyes, and glistened down his sparsely armored back, gleaming white in the sunlight. The swords of his opponents sparkled, his long staffed scythe gleamed red, already soaked from former challengers.

The lazy wind kicked up a spray of gritty sand and he finally made a move. A lightening quick turn to those coming at him from behind, whirling the scythe through the air in a seamless arc, he ended one in a slick slice sluing blood on the parched sand at his feet. A smile, glistening sharp, turned up his lips in a sick curve. He enjoyed this too much sometimes.

They all surged forward then, and he smiled wickedly as they came. And that smile was the last thing they saw as they fell to the hot sand, turning it muddy. The crowd roared, but he scarcely heard it; the smile melted from his face when the raucous applause registered. He turned in a slow circle, watching the crazed people thunder their approval, but he didn't care for their opinion of him. He spun and cast his gold-flecked green eyes to where the emperor sat with his lovely wife and he could feel his blood boil… until he caught sight of the smallish woman at the Venus' side.

Her eyes were dark, he could see that from where he stood, and her dark hair was cast carelessly over her slim shoulder. This sun would leave her reddened. She was pouring the Empress ruby-toned wine. Then he was being ushered from the sand and the sun, the deafening screams of the people fading only slightly as he returned to the dank tunnels beneath the Coliseum. He was done for the day.

…

He sat in his own cell, nothing to do, no one to talk to as he waited for the next day. He didn't know how much time had passed when he heard the lock on his door turn, but he knew well enough that it definitely hadn't been a day yet.

She entered quietly, shutting the heavy wooden door behind her, the candle and the light leaking in through the one, small, barred window giving her that almost ghostly aura.

"Haruhi, I wasn't expecting to see you today," he said.

"You saw me earlier," she said back casually.

He smirked, a small quirk of his thin lips. "I meant here."

"Well, I'm here, and I have a message," Haruhi spoke, her voice ever monotonous. "My Empress wants you to know that she thinks you fought well today, and she hopes you'll continued to do so, also she wants you to meet her in that garden, she spoke to you about, tonight after midnight," when she was finished, she waited, her brow arched, for a reply. He always had one.

"Why, so I can slit her throat?"  
"You're going to get yourself killed."

"I'm a gladiator, it's fated,"

"Uriah…" Her tone wasn't so monotonous anymore.

"Tell her I pulled my hamstring, and I need to rest if I'm to continue fighting well," he spoke flippantly, and it was obvious he wanted nothing to do with the Empress. He looked at Haruhi with those sun-flecked eyes, and she looked back. But he wanted everything to do with the Empress' property. "When will you have another message?" he asked.

"With that reply… not too soon I imagine," she looked at him with amusement.

"Pity," he stated, looking away from her, silence filling the room for the next few seconds. Then he looked at her once more. "I won't meet the Empress… however, there's someone else I'd be willing to meet tonight."

"I'll tell her you're cavorting with younger waifs then, shall I?" Haruhi asked, looking to the window, the light was fading fast now and soon Uriah would be free to visit the local vicinities.

"If you like. As long as you come back," he spoke softly now, looking at the candle which was mostly a puddle of wax now. It flickered.

"You mean tonight," it wasn't a question, not really. "I won't."

She made for the door, opened it a bit, but it was slammed shut again by the strong hand of the fighter. Her eyes trailed along the pale skin of his muscle corded forearm and she realized, he could probably crush her skull if he so wished it. But she knew he wouldn't. She looked up at him with those dark, fathomless eyes, her back pressed against the door, him looming over her small frame.

"You're going to get me in trouble, let me go," she spoke flatly.

"Then promise you'll meet me tonight," he asked, his voice soft, somewhat desperate as he ran his fingers from her temple back into her thick hair to that soft skin just behind the ear, his fingers clinging to the silky strands as he brought it to his lips for a gentle press.

"I can be a body to anyone, and anyone can be a body to you. You might as well just meet the Empress if you're just looking for… promiscuities… besides, the Empress is more of a woman than I'll ever be," she spoke quietly, her eyes downcast.

He backed away from her, and in the shadows, she couldn't see his face. The door clicked behind her.

"I want more than just a body," he mused to himself, quelling the wick of the candle with his fingers.

…

"How very inconclusive," the Undertaker mused as he walked back into the room. "I love a good cliffhanger, especially when they fall," he chortled.

No one had even noticed he was gone. Except Sebastian, of course. Sebastian was always keeping an eye on… well, everyone. They were all such insipid creatures, impossible to leave without a babysitter.

"I guess it's about that time," Sebastian mused to himself, walking confidently to the door. Kyoya watched as the pale man opened the door and shut it silently behind him.

Tamaki didn't notice, obviously, because he was too busy thinking really hard to notice anything outside of himself. He was currently in the theatre, that posh, rose tinted velvety place in his mind where anything and everything could happen; that place where Haruhi practically lived in.

He sat atop a throne cushioned with bright red clashing pillows, the crown of that throne made of pure, sparkling gold. He was relaxed, one arm supporting his lounging frame, his legs spread in the comfortable manner that most men tend to do while sitting… relaxed. He was the king, and knowing such, he knew he could lounge in any way he so pleased. It wasn't until the rose petals began falling from nowhere that he realized all the other hosts stood around him, facing towards a door in front of them all.

There were the twins, there was Mori, and Honey and Kyoya, but not only that, they all wore the same thing. Tamaki looked down at himself and realized, his clothes also matched that of the other men. They all wore black pants and shoes, a blue button down covering their torsos, a very special emblem embroidered over their left breasts. They all had on the signature Ouran Academy uniform.

"Welcome," Everyone said in perfect synchronization, everyone except Tamaki.

His eyes shot to the music room door, where someone was entering.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys really don't have to welcome me every time I come in… I'm kind of a part of this too now, you know?" It was Haruhi, clad in the same attire as them, her hair cut short and boyish.

"We wouldn't have to if you weren't always late," one of the twins grumped; it was pretty obvious that it had been Hikaru. He probably wished that Haruhi and he could get dressed together each morning.

And Tamaki could practically see that perverse thought of Hikaru's floating over that devil's head, actually, he could. There was a bubble floating right over Hikaru's head, with that image in it. It was a blurry image though, censored, Tamaki guessed. The twins were incessant perverts; they even did things with each other for Christ's sake! That's what Tamaki thought anyway, and it was probably true.

"You ugly monkey!" Tamaki roared and kicked Hikaru's head – after he'd stood up, of course.

"Ow, Boss," Hikaru growled.

"Haruhi, follow me, I want to teach you something," Tamaki said, ignoring the glaring pairs of golden eyes, he could feel his insides flutter at the prospect of him and Haruhi being basically alone together. He led her to the other side of the room, the rest of the hosts eyeing them suspiciously. They knew all too well that the only real reason Tamaki wanted to "teach" her something was because he just wanted her for himself. He had the propensity of being rather selfish.

So began the long tedium of Tamaki's grand explanations, what was what and how to do that and this oh and this why the earth was round and how that effected our ways of perceiving other people and why beauty and the beast ended up together in the end. He knew everything. Or so he thought.

"There's a word for people like him…" Haruhi mused to herself while Tamaki was in the midst of explaining how one is to properly place a glass on a table top, just so, with a pinky cushion. "Pleasant? No…" she continued to think, and suddenly, from the depths of her mind came the obvious and only answer.

Tamaki was near her now, behind her, to the side, "And don't forget how effective a glance from the side can be." He said, glancing at her from the side.

Suddenly she hit her fist to her palm, her index finger pointing upward in realization.

"Oh have I struck a chord?" Tamaki asked, almost immediately answered with….

"Beautiful," Haruhi announced in conclusion.

Tamaki gasped. He experienced a sudden and somewhat painful perforation to the heart, his breathing hitched with the pinch of discomfort, but it subsided and beat faster. He felt acutely a need, a longing.

This was the theatre. And Tamaki knew how to manipulate it to its full potential.

He swept the boyish girl off her feet and carried her from one stage to another, this one much more to his liking, much more secluded.

She wore fluffy, frilly, pink things… because, really, Tamaki wanted her to be something that she wasn't. She looked up at him with big, brown, innocent eyes, reluctance evident in her demure expression. He set her on the large, circular mattress. The gauzy films curtaining the bed swaying lightly in the open-window breeze, carrying the sweet scents of just blooming hyacinth, a few little blue bell shaped flowers finding their way to the white of the bedspread. They were crushed by awkward fingers as Tamaki leaned down over his lovely maiden.

"Tamaki, I don't know…" Haruhi breathed. She looked a bit worried.

"Haruhi," Tamaki's voice was a purr, warm and deep and yearning.

He started with her neck. His teeth combing the skin there, leaving little red marks. His fingers were in her short hair, gripping it, as if to keep her there. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew she wanted out. To leave him in the theatre… The Theatre, his world, where anything he wanted was true.

"Tamaki," his name on her lips was sweet as honeycomb, and her hands on the back of his neck pulled him closer, pulled him down to her. He loved this feeling of being wanted by someone he so desperately needed.

Her body was a new kind of softness, yielding to him, but he felt himself resisting, placing a hand on the mattress, slipping his legs between hers as to better keep his weight from falling on her. She was such a frail creature, it seemed that just about anything could easily crush her.

Her mouth was warm on his. Her lips were a giving tenderness, caressing his, slipping against his, molding to his. And her tongue was as eager as his to explore.

They lay there, twining desperately and breathing each other in when things slowly began to slip. The frilly and lacey dress was so easily removed and the things underneath too. Tamaki hadn't been wearing much to begin with, so whatever it was that he had been wearing was easily forgotten and replaced with nothing at all.

Kissing, and kissing, and deepen. Look at me now. Kiss me again.

He felt all of her. Knew the curves, dips, angles, softness. Felt her everywhere around him, holding tight to his shoulders, breathing his name into his hair and sighing, hitched, when he moved. She smelt warm: slowly melting vanilla candles and steeping chai.

Everywhere and nowhere, the theatre of his mind let him have her and she was clay in his palm. It was strange though. Tamaki didn't remember his theatre being this… tangible. Exhilarating. Real.

Tamaki opened his eyes, and he was in a room with all the people he cared about. Besides those two in the corner, the silver haired one and that red haired maniac. He had a problem in his pants.

"Oh, let me fix that!" Exclaimed the maniac.

And as Tamaki tried to fight the menace off, he couldn't help but notice his best friend, bereft of glasses, at the desk, watching with a glazed expression on his face. An expression Tamaki couldn't translate.


	20. The Thing about Desires

She sat cushioned by sophistication, pillowed in elegance, surrounded on all sides by exactly what she was not, and she looked beautiful. The sun was fiery, bright and white with heat. She gazed out the window, the brown in her big eyes catching and igniting in a fiery glaze. She heard him enter the room, even though he was as silent as he always was. Her eyes, dark and warmer than the light, gazed at him with something like fondness, he thought, something like appreciation. The warmth of that look, it made him smile.

"Milady, today we have a pungent lotus tea, and… fancy tuna," Sebastian wasn't sure about this pairing, but the lady did love her fancy tuna and he wasn't one to deny her wants.

"Thank you, Sebastian," Lady Haruhi responded with immaculate grace and poise, her pinky extended just so as she took the first sip of her sunny toned tea… first gulp. Sebastian could sometimes trick himself into thinking that she was the picture of perfection, as a lady of her standing should be, but of course it wasn't true. There were times, like this one, in which she would return to that lower-than-sophisticated state and ruin Sebastian's picture of her.

He didn't mind much though, how could he? He was so fond of her. And it wasn't even her soul that attracted him. Strange. Even stranger was the fact that Sebastian was still the butler of this household… The esteemed server of Mr. Suoh and his young wife.

Commence Flashback:

Tamaki had called him in to clean up his mess, and why he hadn't simply called a maid was beyond Sebastian's reckoning. But the humble butler had come all the same and had done a fabulous job of ridding the carpet of spilled coffee.

"Thank you Sebastian. I need to make a call," Tamaki said from behind his desk.

"Shall I leave, Sir?" Sebastian replied respectfully.

"No, no, you can just go stand in that corner, over there," Tamaki instructed with the flip of his hand.

Sebastian turned his head to look upon the sparse section of the room that he was instructed to stand in. He looked back to Tamaki before giving a small bow and adhering to his lord's command. He had just made it to the corner when he heard Tamaki begin to speak…

"Yes, Mori, it's me, your king? Yeah, you know, of course," what an insipid being he was. "Well, I'm going to need you to come over here… no not now, just every day after I leave… No, to check on Haruhi… No I can't just leave her to the butler… I need you to make sure that he's not making a move on her! … the butler. On Haruhi," Sebastian continued to listen, his eyes blank as he stared at his master. "I know I ask you every time, but that's only because Kyoya's been acting weird and you know I can't trust those two weirdoes… Honey's out of the question, you've let him get out of hand, going out with all those pastry girls… Just do what I say! You're the only one I can count on, Mori! You're the only one who's not a threat!... NO, Mori, you must!... but…" there was a sudden pause. Sebastian's eyes flashed at the next sentence that came out of Tamaki's mouth. "I'll buy you a cat… Wonderful! Come first thing tomorrow!"

This had been going on for quite a while. Tamaki had been leery of hiring the pale man, but he couldn't deny that he was certainly good at his job, the best even. Plus, he had known Sebastian for years since that strange incident that happened when they were all trapped in that racy burlesque club… It felt like a life time ago. Since then he had proposed to Haruhi a sum of about five times, and – probably out of annoyance, was everyone's guess – she had finally accepted. But that didn't mean Tamaki wasn't paranoid as emperors of ancient times.

End Flashback:

…

Ding-dong. It was that time again. The time that Sebastian always anticipated, ever since the first time that Tamaki had had to leave for an extended amount of time, though the reason Tamaki trusted the giant more than the other hosts was beyond Sebastian. Yes, he was a loyal and honorable man, but it was all too obvious, to Sebastian, that the big man and the small mistress had feelings for each other beyond friendship. Sebastian would have picked Mori over Tamaki in a heartbeat… So he didn't begrudge the mistress her feelings. More big man for him.

"Morinozuka, Milady," a maid curtsied in the doorway and left, the big man coming forward in her wake.

"Are you making a move?" the big man abruptly asked of Sebastian.

"Over a thousand times a day," Sebastian replied with something akin to sarcasm.

Mori stared.

"Not on the lady though, of course, I would never overstep my bounds," the pale man smiled dryly.

"Mm," Mori intoned. Mori smiled and Sebastian (jizzed in his pants) felt more at ease.

"Shall I get you anything? Tea, coffee, something to eat?" Sebastian inquired, desperately wishing to serve the man in front of him. He wanted to make a good impression (for the hundredth time). He was hoping that Mori would invite him over to see his new cat some time.

"No," Mori said, he wasn't a man of many words, and Sebastian knew this, so he wasn't offended; although, he often wished that he would say more.

"Well, if either of you have need of anything, just let me know," Sebastian said, and left the room, his footsteps silent even on the tiled floor. He shut the door and smiled to himself in mild amusement. The room they sat in was the ballroom of this rolling estate. But Haruhi liked the windows, so Tamaki had had a small sitting area arranged just for her. Sebastian found it funny that the master strove so hard to keep his little bride happy and contained. He also found it rather pitiful; a man of such power shouldn't have to be so self-conscious, so unsure of his standing with one mere woman.

He knew that Haruhi and Mori would visit for a while, that they'd talk about things that didn't really matter, that they'd never speak of what they felt and that they wouldn't call to Sebastian for anything. In a way, Haruhi was still a commoner, she never asked anyone for anything. Not even Tamaki. And Sebastian was aware that Tamaki wallowed in despair at the fact that Haruhi was so against asking for help or even necessities, even after all these years. The master wanted to give her the world, a piece of it at least, but the lady would never accept.

Sebastian had about an hour, perhaps two, to do whatever it was he wished before he'd have to bid Mori good-bye. Technically, he had the entire time Tamaki was away to do whatever he wished, but he couldn't make himself. Sebastian cared for Haruhi and he hated leaving her alone, almost as much as Tamaki did. It made him suspect that Mori's visits weren't really to check to see if Sebastian was "making moves on her", but more of an excuse for Haruhi to have some company.

Safe company.

Sebastian wasn't stupid; he knew Haruhi wasn't staying in the mansion, entirely, of her own free will.

Something had happened. And he was still trying to parse out the particulars. He knew it involved one of Tamaki's five friends, excluding Mori. And it happened in that short span of time just before Tamaki and Haruhi sealed the deal. The only one who wasn't present at the wedding seemed to be Sebastian's best bet: Kyoya. He remembered the aura that hung around the couple the entire ceremony, a pall of paranoia and fear, something that no one else seemed to notice.

He began to walk, his steps echoing all the way up into the ceiling many feet above. All was silent aside from his rhythmic pace and the soft murmurs coming for the ballroom. His face displayed no emotion until his gaze began to brighten and became crimson. There were no longer murmurs, they were loud and clear. Even as he shut the door to his servant's courters, he could still hear every word Haruhi and Mori spoke. It was about the dreams she'd been having. They'd plagued her since she and Tamaki had returned from their honeymoon – and apparently before that. Sebastian remembered the night when Haruhi spoke to Tamaki about the strange thoughts and night images: glowing eyes. Sebastian couldn't tell who they had been talking about. To the extent of his knowledge, none of Tamaki's friends fit that description.

"But what happens before that?" Sebastian was somewhat disheartened by the fact that the only time Mori spoke this much was when he was with Haruhi.

"I'm not sure…" Haruhi faltered. "I only remember the eyes…"

"Hm…" Mori hummed to himself. "You've no idea who it could be?"

There was a pause.

"No," Haruhi said, and she didn't sound small anymore.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at that, and he could almost imagine Mori staring at her with his deep, dark eyes, knowing exactly what Sebastian knew now: Haruhi was lying. And now the question was: why?

Sebastian stood in his sparsely decorated room alone for a few more seconds, then he turned around and found Elle sitting, prim and tempting, on his bed. Slowly, the details of his room began to melt away, blurring into nothing but black, all except the woman and her pedestal. She was clad in the same sultry attire she wore on the same night as her demise, the same night Sebastian took her for himself.

"The only reason a woman hides a culprit is because she has feelings for him," Elle said, immediately knowing what it was Sebastian wished to consult with her. She was a part of him now after all.

"So it would seem that the culprit is one of the friends," Sebastian spoke coolly.

"It only makes sense," Elle confirmed, standing.

"But which one?"

"How would I know?" Elle asked. "You think it's Kyoya."

"I have my suspicions," Sebastian gave Elle a sideward glance, taking in her appearance, appreciating it. Here, her hair really did look like fire.

"Why is that exactly?" Elle asked, completing the last few steps it took to be standing directly in front of Sebastian. By the look on her face, Sebastian suspected she already knew exactly what he was about to say.

Many souls lived in this dark abyss of nothingness, all the souls that Sebastian had devoured. They went to neither heaven nor hell, they came here, where only Sebastian could meet with and see them. Although, none of the souls were quite like Elle, she had proven to be quite unique. None of the others could read his mind quite like she could and it remained a mystery as to how she was even able. Sebastian figured it had something to do with their last moments together. They did, in theory, become one before she died.

"He didn't attend the wedding," Sebastian explained simply, not quite sure why he bothered, seeing as how Elle knew that already. She was also the only soul he ever found himself conversing with. "Tamaki never visits him… And Haruhi has been forbidden from ever seeing him again… Not to mention I've been informed to dispose of him if he's ever to show up on the premises."

"Will you?"

Sebastian never knew a soul of his to question him.

"Why do you ask?"

"You're not bound to Tamaki, no contract has been made. Technically you can do whatever you want, so I'm curious, will you actually do as Tamaki says this time?" Her voice was inquisitive, as if she really didn't know the answer to her question. Maybe she didn't. There was still something that Sebastian held within him, so deep that only he could truly know. Theoretically he could keep anything he wanted from anyone he wanted to, why he allowed Elle into his subconscious was beyond him.

A mischievous smile began to dance across Sebastian's face, causing Elle to become almost instantly annoyed, already realizing how he'd respond.

"I suppose you'll have to wait and find out."

Then he was gone, back in his room of the living. And it was when he arrived back that he could hear the sturdy footfalls of Mori leaving. Sebastian hurriedly righted himself before heading out of his room, his strides quick as he made his way to the front door.

"Did you have a pleasant stay?" Sebastian asked as the giant and he met in the entrance hall.

"Yeah," was Mori's monotonous response.

Sebastian could feel his spine stiffen ever so slightly as he noted the ever present veil of deception falling easily over Mori's features and tone, something he removed completely when in the presence of Haruhi alone.

Mori was about to leave, to abandon their conversation at that, but Sebastian wouldn't allow it.

"How is Kyoya? I haven't heard anything about him in quite a while."

Sebastian watched as Mori turned back around towards him, a hole punctured through the fabric of his façade. Sebastian couldn't stop the twitch at the right corner of his lips.

"I wouldn't know… I haven't either," was Mori's stalwart reply.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Really? Strange. Has he had a falling out with all of you?"

"Mm…" Mori's face didn't change. "Goodbye," and he walked out the door.

Sebastian stood for a moment in the hall, but not for long. He needed to attend to Haruhi, and so he turned around and headed back to the ballroom and his Mistress.

…

The moon hung low in the great black belly of the sky, the wobbling stars glinting happy like disturbed smiles, and a mist lolled about near the ground, filmy and wet. Lovely and yet ominous, the crickets sang, chirping their leg-strings, the occasional screech of an owl waiting for the small patter of unperturbed clawed feet to come scritch-scratching into sight. Moonlight catches on its roundish eyes, glinting brightly, the slow descent of silent death and those great talons taking hold, the small despondent cry and then the crickets again.

Sebastian saw it all, felt the mist on his face and neck, and continued his steady sweeping of the front steps with his old, straw broom – so dust ridden it probably did more harm than good. He moved it: right to left, right to left, right to left. He wasn't really sweeping, but waiting for someone; he knew he'd be here soon.

The silence became deadly, even Sebastian's sweeping ceased. Brush, brush, gone. The leaves began to rustle as if the souls themselves became restless. Something was about to happen, that was very clear. There came a rhythmic crunch, crunch, crunch, the sound of feet falling steadily along the graveled driveway.

"Really, he isn't classy enough to have a chauffeur?" Sebastian inquired to himself.

Then he saw him.

No glasses, black pants and boots, a black long-sleeved shirt, clothes that weren't formal, an oddity to be worn by such a man as Kyoya. And Sebastian knew this. Sebastian knew Kyoya much better than one might think. The onyx of Kyoya's eyes was shining brighter than normal and as he got closer Sebastian knew why. There was gold burning out from Kyoya's pupil.

"Unfortunate fate for someone such as yourself," Sebastian mused to himself.

"Excuse me?" Kyoya asked.

"I know who you are… Spiderman," Sebastian grinned.

"Funny," though Kyoya clearly wasn't amused at all. "You said you'd let me in."

"I will, though she's not expecting you," Sebastian's smile wasn't lost in the moonlight. And Sebastian opened the door. "Please come in, I'll take you to her room."

"Why are you doing this?" Kyoya asked as he stepped inside.

"Curiosity," Sebastian spoke with a shrug of the shoulders.

"Curiosity of what, exactly?"

"Take off your shoes," it was a simple, stern demand which caused Kyoya to pause, his head turning to the stone faced butler only a moment later.

"What?" Kyoya inquired, he had never fancied being told what to do.

"Your shoes, you just walked in gravel, they're filthy. Although I may be breaking a rule by letting you in, I'm trying to keep my master's home clean."

Kyoya scoffed before he succumbed to removing his shoes.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Sebastian's face broke into a smile and he motioned to the elaborate staircase to his left.

"Right this way," Sebastian said.

There was a moment of silence as Kyoya's eyes seemed to evaluate the situation; a lurking suspicion deep within is gaze. Sebastian watched closely as Kyoya's features seemed to soften into a sort of admiration and alleviation, an expression foreign to such a man's face. They walked. Then they were finally at the door, Sebastian knocked lightly, and before Haruhi could say anything he swung the door silently in and bowed.

She stood before the window, in those silky pajamas Tamaki had ordered specially for her. It surprised Sebastian that she actually wore them – maybe it was because they weren't especially frilly, but rather a plain pair of white silken pants and a little top. Sebastian smiled at her as she turned to him.

"Milady, Ootori Kyoya to see you," Sebastian said as he rose from his bow.

"Kyo..?" but she stopped as Kyoya entered the room. Sebastian watched as they looked at each other, neither one making a move to close the distance between them.

"Shall I leave you two alone?" Sebastian asked.

"No," Haruhi replied immediately. "Stay." So he did. He closed the door with a subdued click then stood in the shadows, nearly becoming a shadow himself.

"What're you doing here?" Haruhi asked.

"Haruhi," Kyoya said. "Let me fix this," he took a step closer.

"Don't say things like that. It doesn't sound like you," she said, taking a step back, closer to the window, gripping the gauzy drapes in her fingers.

"You make me sound like that," Kyoya said, approaching her now, no longer hesitant it seemed. Sebastian's eyes followed him, watching for the change in his eyes, but saw none. And then Kyoya's back was to him.

"Don't touch me," Haruhi said, firm, but the drapes behind her quivered in her grasp.

"I won't, if that's what you want," Kyoya said, his voice was softer than Sebastian had ever heard it, bereft of its usual snide edge.

"I'm married, Kyoya, of course I don't want to be touched by other men," Haruhi spoke, sounding lost.

"We both know you did that out of convenience. Besides, I'm not asking you to be a love interest. I just want you to trust me again, to let me be in your life again," Kyoya spoke quietly, probably not wishing to be overheard, but that was really just too bad.

"Trust has to be earned Kyoya," Haruhi spoke, and Sebastian saw the furrowing of her brow. "And you lost it when –"

"When I kissed you? What happened that night… it was an accident, and I didn't know what was happening to me then."

Sebastian didn't miss the past tense of Kyoya's words. Apparently, Haruhi didn't either.

"Didn't? So what happened then?" She needed to know, the curiosity seeming to cool her nerves. The curtains didn't shake nearly as much as they had a minute ago.

Even from behind, Sebastian could see Kyoya tense, hesitance obvious in his ridged posture.

"I'm… not sure I should say," Kyoya said.

"And you want me to trust you? Trust goes both ways, Kyoya," Haruhi said, letting go of the drapes.

Kyoya wanted to spill his thoughts, this was clear to Sebastian, but it also seemed to become apparent to Haruhi, because she took a step closer. "Kyoya, just tell me."

For a moment, the tension of Kyoya's shoulders eased, but it returned just as fast. Sebastian watched as Kyoya's head fell forward, in defeat. Sebastian held his breath anticipating the truth. He watched from his distance and soon realized, as Kyoya's voice seeped into the room once more, that the words he uttered couldn't be the truth at all.

"I was sick," he said simply. "It wasn't…" he paused, running a hand through his immaculately kept hair. "It was a sickness of the mind," the gesture he made – a shrug – was that of giving up. "You have to remember that my brother's had just died, everything was confusing… I can't tell you exactly, Haruhi, but I'm better now."

Surprised amusement tickled someplace deep in Sebastian's chest. Then from his throat came a rumbling chortle that caused the other two to turn to him in question.

"Maybe I should leave the two of you alone," Sebastian said, a hint of a smile quirking his lips. "I believe my presence is a hindrance to Kyoya's storytelling." And before Haruhi could object, Sebastian was out the door, gone, never to be seen again, until later.

Out in the hallway, lit only by the prevailing moon out the windows – there were a lot of windows everywhere, all over the place, in this mansion – he began to walk back down stairs. He wasn't quite sure where he was going and quite frankly, he didn't much care.

Something pulled him to go to the west door and that's where he presently stood. As he turned the handle and walked out onto the west porch, he tried to make sense of the unknown reason that made him come here. Perhaps it was the calling of the full moon, the darkness that clung to everything. People always thought there was more light when the moon was full, but really, it just made more shadows.

He crossed the expanse of porch, until he made it to the middle of marble courtyard, where an exquisite fountain stood, spouting water from on high into a long span of pond. Water lilies floated atop the glistening water, the white of the petals looking blue in the night, the bottom of the pond unseen in the darkness. Occasionally you could see the glimmering scales of a koi's back just brushing the surface.

There came a sudden splash from the water somewhere. Sebastian's eyes scanned all land near the small body of water until he spotted something foreign to the house of Suoh. A black cat played about the edge of the water, his front paws diving into the pond ever so often in hopes of clawing himself a late night snack. Sebastian smiled contentedly as he watched the adorable display. It's when the cat realized he was being watched that Sebastian's smile faded. Sapphire blue eyes pierced the burgundy toned russet of Sebastian's and he knew that this cat had another form, a form Sebastian knew all too well. It was a form Sebastian used to bathe, to dress, and protect. Yes, he knew that body just as he knew his own.

The cat began to morph. The feline eyes began to change into a more human shape, hair began to grow from its head, the ears shrinking down into his temples, and the fur falling out to reveal porcelain skin. Arms and legs grew, as did the naked torso. It didn't take long until a boy stood across the pond from Sebastian, a boy with choppy black hair that fell just past his shoulders and body that was thin and lean with an acquiescent sum of youthful muscle. You could see each curve of his muscular thighs and calves under the black leather on his legs, the moonlight causing the pants to shine some places and be completely black in others.

Sebastian could remember when that boy was master to him, when the body of that athletic looking teen in front of him was soft and waif. Now, small he may still be, he looked strong and agile. Perhaps Sebastian knew not the body in front of him any longer. The boy no longer needed Sebastian to be safe. Now, he was more than capable of helping himself.

They didn't speak to one another. Sebastian was only able to look upon the scabby color of Ciel's eyes. Why they were blue when Ciel stood in cat form, was beyond Sebastian.

"I have to know Sebastian, what is your ploy? This is my game, you know," Ciel broke the silence before bending his knees ever so slightly before jumping into the air. The next time his feet met the ground, it was next to Sebastian, his hands meeting the earth as well as he crouched.

"I haven't a ploy, and I don't remember you being a part of the desire I envisioned," Sebastian spoke, seemingly amused in a reserved sort of way.

Ciel straightened himself, the place he stood so close to Sebastian he could practically feel the coolness of Ciel's skin. Sebastian couldn't help but notice the apparent height Ciel had grown; he stood just under Sebastian's chin. This hardly made any sense though. Demons didn't grown, or age. Perhaps Ciel had dipped his soft hands into some black magic. That was hardly anything new.

"Oh really? I happen to remember being the soul center of every desire you ever envisioned," Ciel concluded with an impish smirk.

Sebastian didn't care for the apparent pun in the younger man's words.

"Times have changed, and we're no longer what we once were to each other. Why bother with this whole game anyway?" Sebastian asked.

"I have something I want to hear," Ciel said.

"And what is that?" Sebastian said.

"What is it you really want Sebastian? This can't be it, serving that little woman who looks like me, following the orders of some blond buffoon you don't even have a contract with. It doesn't make sense Sebastian," Ciel spoke quickly, the words pouring out him in rapid fire. "Tell me what you really want. You could have anything here, I could give it to you. Why, you could even have my soul now if you so wanted."

Sebastian stared down at his former master in disdain. "I stopped thirsting for that a long time ago, ever since you lost it… This is exactly what I wanted to see," Sebastian spoke sedately.

"What?"

"That's the thing about desires, Ciel, there are so many to choose from. And why would I choose one that's been long dead. Do you think me as small minded as that?" Sebastian spoke in his most confident tone.

"You mean the one… the one where you finally have me, don't you? You purposefully decided against it," Ciel said, looking Sebastian straight in the eye.

"Correct. It's useless to even think of such a thing," Sebastian said. "This way I can see what I have to look forward to."

"Your future?"

"Yes."

"This is rather dismal then."

"Not quite."

"How do you figure that?" Ciel wanted to know.

"You're gone," Sebastian's eyes lit with the mention of these words.

Ciel was quiet for a moment, his eyes downcast, looking at the marble beneath his bare feet.

"But I'm here now," Ciel said slowly reaching out a hand.

"Only because you're the one behind this realm."

Ciel's hand gripped the sleeve of Sebastian's tailcoat.

"You were supposed to want me," Ciel seethed.

Sebastian's face looked down at the small man with unveiled distain. "I could never want someone so deceiving and impure."

The next thing Sebastian knew there were claws slashing through the air towards his face, needless to say he avoided. Ciel's eyes glowed magenta, his snarl revealing sharp, bestial teeth. The claws ripped through Sebastian's tailcoat and purest white shirt, just grazing the skin of his chest. They both tumbled into the fountain. And Sebastian refrained from fighting back as Ciel drew a glistening jade sword from the ripples. The demon sword glowed bright in the light of the moon as Ciel held it, tip pointing down to Sebastian's chest. All Ciel had to do was push it down and Sebastian would be gone forever. This Ciel was no figment, he was real, Sebastian would die if Ciel so wished it.

Sebastian waited for what would happen next. He wondered what last words Ciel wished to say to him before he was plunged into everlasting darkness.

"Say that you love me!" Ciel cried frantically, his eyes glistening with something that wasn't demonic power. It was something only known to human kind.

Sebastian was surprised to say the least. He blinked as he stared upward, at the young man above him.

"I once thought I cared for you… even if I didn't acquire your soul in the end. But without your soul, you've become something completely different. I loved you as a human, but not as this," Sebastian said, completely calm.

Ciel stared down at Sebastian, his face contorted into a mask of pain as he tried to hold back the flood of tears. A cry escaped him. The sound wrenching its way out his throat, the sad keen of misery. "This is the true reason I became a demon… I thought you felt the same way… I wanted to remain by your side forever, because that's what love is, it's eternal!"

Pity showed on Sebastian's face as he watched the pathetic display above him.

"The Ciel I loved was human. I could have been with you, by your side forever and always, until it was time for your mortal life to end… and even after that, once your soul was consumed, you'd be forever a part of me." Sebastian spoke, watching closely as blood leaked from Ciel's eyes. Demons are a species incapable of tears. Sebastian couldn't help but reach up and try to wipe the crimson streaks away, but it only caused red to be smeared across Ciel's cheeks and seep into the snow white color of Sebastian's gloves. "It was you who decided to cheat."

Ciel let the sword slip from his fingers. It splashed in the water, then was gone completely.

"Sebastian," Ciel collapsed onto Sebastian's chest as the butler slowly sat up. "There's no taking back my sins now, there's no way to atone, is there?" a soured hope filled his voice.

"You could give me this future," Sebastian spoke softly, his wish cloaked in the shadows of this frozen-still night.

"Why would you want this? You could be king, Sebastian, why do you wish to serve someone who only dreams of becoming one?"

"You would never allow that, I'm sure," Sebastian mused.

The stillness of the night was consuming, almost unreal. Sebastian noticed that the koi in the water that had once been swimming leisurely near the bottom now stood completely still, as did the ripples, all the rest of the nightlife, completely and utterly frozen.

The smeared blood on Ciel's cheeks was dry and crusted as he looked upon Sebastian, the emotion from his face drained. Suddenly Ciel's eyes flashed and the world became alive again, a burst of wind moving across the air and rustling the two men's hair, their eyes locked together. Sebastian could feel Ciel's nimble fingers grabbing at that collar of his shirt.

"Kiss me."

Sebastian blinked as he stared at the youthful face in front of him, Ciel's eyes dark and determined.

"Is that an order?" Sebastian asked, unaffected by the question at hand.

"Your last…" Ciel whispered, moving in to take Sebastian's mouth with his.

"Yes, My Lord," Sebastian spoke softly, his words being lost against his master's lips.

Ciel's little fingers tangled in Sebastian's hair as he deepened the kiss, delving his prodding tongue past Sebastian's lips, drawing it along the roof of the other demon's mouth. And Sebastian saw no reason to hold back, so he responded to the younger's advances accordingly. His hands pressed gently to the middle of Ciel's back as his own tongue began to take action of the battle underway. A guttural sound escaped him, his teeth grazing Ciel's tongue as he brought his ungloved hand to the back of Ciel's head and gripped his master's hair. His other hand took a slow rout up Ciel's back, pulling him closer. Ciel mewled in response, his hands slipping down to Sebastian's shoulders, where he took a firm hold, trying to steady himself. Sebastian's hand jerked back, pulling Ciel's head and exposing the younger's neck, the skin there milky and unblemished. He had a sudden sneaking urge to mark that perfect flesh. He wanted to see red against it.

"Do it… You know you want to…" Ciel said, his breathing uneven, excited and Sebastian could hear the smile in Ciel's voice. "Maybe this was your true desire…"

"Like I said, there're so many desires to choose from…" he breathed as he leaned in to taste that sweet skin, the warmth it emitted almost seeming human.

He could feel the strong pulse in Ciel's veins as his lips pressed tentatively against the smaller's neck. His teeth grazed across Ciel's Adams apple, up to his jaw, back to those swollen lips. He bit Ciel's bottom lip, tugging it gently then snaked his tongue into the young man's mouth, languishing in its sweet flavor. Ciel's hands grasped at the back of Sebastian's neck as their lips attacked one another, breathing through their noses, their bodies beginning to mold. Sebastian grabbed at Ciel's perky little ass through the slippery leather, pulling him closer as Sebastian sat up straighter. Ciel wrapped his gangly legs around Sebastian's hips. No more than a moment later, Sebastian stood from the water, Ciel holding securely onto him. Their mouths remained occupied as Sebastian walked toward the edge of the fountain.

They dripped on the marble surrounding the fountain and made a small puddle when Sebastian gently placed his master down, hovering above him. He looked down at the face below him, their breath heated. Sebastian tucked a lock of hair behind Ciel's ear as he brought his face down, his lips grazing the same place. His hand went down, feeling the firm and youthful dips and planes of Ciel's body before he whispered, so softly. "And now… Master."

"I release you from your contract, Sebastian."

And it all stopped again. Sebastian's eyes widened as he brought his head back up. He scanned his surroundings for a second, a small, brief second, as a small smile came to his lips. When he looked back down, thinking he'd find his master, who he wished to kiss again and again, was gone.


	21. Time Jump

It was finally done. All the desires had been gone through. Everyone was silent; nobody knew what to say as Sebastian's body appeared on the floor and began to wake. His eyes fluttered open, and he took in the room and the freedom he felt as he breathed, air rising in his chest. There was another feeling swelling inside his being as well though. He felt more alone than he had in years and he felt sorrow. Would he ever see his young master… Ciel again?

"So… that's it right?" came the voice of Kaoru, causing everyone's head to turn towards him.

"Yep, I think that's it," Hikaru answered, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Good, that means we can finally leave. We start class tomorrow right? Why did we decide to do this right before classes start…" Kaoru said, leaning into his brother. "How long have we been in here anyway?"

"A few hours," Hikaru replied. (…in the span of however many months it's been… they've only been in that damn room a few hours.)

Kyoya stepped forward, blinking his eyes more than usual, as if he were trying to clear his vision. He reached for his spectacles resting on his desk before placing them precisely upon his nose. Everyone watched as he turned back around to them all, awaiting what he'd say.

"Well then, you've all completed what it is I intended you to do… almost all of you. So aside from Tamaki, you may all leave."

"WHAT!? Why must I stay!?"

"You haven't made your public appearance yet and you promised you would."

So he did. And that was that. Then everyone went home.

…

Part II

The Final Semester

Mori hadn't seen Haruhi for about a week. Not that that was a very long time or anything, but it felt long somehow, entirely too long to be away from such a wonderful friend. Plus, Honey hadn't needed Mori it seemed, since his masculine transformation, so the big man felt more lonely than usual.

The problem was no one was in his program, that he knew anyway, and he had never been good at making friends without Honey by his side. And all this hands-on stuff they were doing so far was only dissection, but pretty soon he'd be assisting a vet. He was looking forward to that. Living, cute, fluffy, animals.

He had a couple hours before a lecture he needed to go to, so he'd come home to the over-large apartment Tamaki still insisted they all stay in and he now stood outside Haruhi's empty room. She'd left the door open, an array of different professional-looking clothes scattered on her floor. It wasn't like her to be so disorganized, but it was almost the end of the semester and she was studying for some huge test that Mori didn't really know anything about. He stared at the mess a little longer, then entered and started putting things away.

As he hung the last dress shirt in her closet he heard the front door burst open, the voices of the twin's making its way to his ears.

"… I swear her boobs have gotten bigger."

"It's because she's eating watermelon with like every meal."

"The plan's working, but we need more."

"Do you think she'll be able to fit in it by the show?"

It? Mori wondered for no more than a moment before he realized he needed to get out of her room. There's no telling what the twins might say or do if they discovered him in Haruhi's room… in her closest. He could see it now, they're faces of curiosity slowly transitioning into smirks of the devil, horns sprouting from their fiery hair as they asked questions. Why are you in here?, what are you looking at?, who would have thought senpai to be such a pervert? And what if it got back to Haruhi? That's the last thing he wanted.

He could already hear their footsteps and voices increasing in volume. They were walking down the hallway. Even if Mori were to leave right now they'd see him leaving.

"… Her ass looks pretty nice too."

What could he do now? The window. No, he could just shut the door of the closet, that'd be safer.

So he shut the door to the closet and waited for the twins to leave.

…

Kyoya knew all of this already. It was a waste of time, but he was taking notes, furiously, anyway. He wanted his degree, even if it was only a pretty piece of paper and he wanted his teacher to think he worked hard to get it. Everyone is a connection in the world of business, a professor being no objection.

Tamaki on the other hand apparently thought that giving the appearance of trying wasn't important in the slightest. Another of the blond buffoon's rubber-bands bounced off Kyoya's hair. When the more studious of the two didn't respond, about ten seconds later, a paperclip hit his ear. When that didn't cause Kyoya to even flinch, a rather large and all too obvious ball of paper whacked the side of his head.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Suoh?" the professor inquired.

"Quite," Tamaki replied in his most cheery voice.

The professor smiled and went back to his lecture. Somehow, even though Tamaki played the mindless clown of the class perfectly, he managed to remain in the professor's good graces. Kyoya would never understand how he accomplished such a feat.

"Kyoya," Tamaki whispered. "Hey… Kyoya."

Kyoya made eye contact with his friend for no more than a few seconds, only to direct Tamaki's eyes downward, right to where Kyoya was giving him the middle finger. The blond promptly looked away to the front of the class, frowning, a blush decorating his sun-kissed cheeks. He'd gotten a lot tanner ever since they'd moved to America. Probably because it had become a daily routine –per Tamaki's request- to play sand volleyball with everyone. Somehow Haruhi had gotten out of it however. No one had seen her in a while to be completely honest.

Kyoya's furious scribbling halted as he thought about that. Haruhi not being around. Hadn't they all come here specifically to be together? All of them? Well, she did have tests coming up, that should probably be explanation enough for him.

For now he'd try to get through this class without murdering his best friend. Even though it'd been months since the 'desire' incident, he still had a hard time looking at Tamaki the way he used to.

…

It had been about a week since Haruhi had stayed at the apartment for longer than what it took to shower, put on some clothes, or grab some books and food then leave. As she dragged her feet towards the apartment door that the ex-hosts and she lived in, a small smile came to her tired face. Her eyes drooped in a way that only exhaustion could explain. She was about ready to collapse. Only the thought of her warm, soft bed kept her moving.

She brought out the key from her bag and fumbled to stick it in the keyhole. She soon discovered the door was already unlocked. Her eyes widened. This could only mean one thing. Any number of the ex-hosts could be home. If she wasn't discreet, she might never make it to her bed.

She slowly turned the doorknob before peaking in. It was quiet. Too quiet. This only helped calm Haruhi down some. Silence in the apartment with hosts around could be either a good thing or a very bad thing.

She could smell bacon. It was a smell that caused her to exhale and toss the nerves in her chest away. There was only one of her closest friends who actually ever cooked, or knew how for that matter. She hastily removed her shoes before following her senses to the kitchen, the heavenly scent getting stronger with each stride. When she arrived in the archway leading into her destination she saw him. Clad in black pants, a white dress shirt, and a pink, frilly apron to top it all off. He was a sight to be seen to say the least. And he was unashamed, even though alone, if anyone were to see him, Haruhi knew he couldn't care less. It's just the kind of person Mori was, it was what she loved about him.

"Hey, Mori-senpai, what are you making?" Haruhi was very interested to know, food was one of her greatest interests.

"Dinner," was Mori's simple response.

Haruhi expected an answer like this. No matter how close the two of them were, it always took a while before Mori's sentences took on a more complex style. Around Haruhi though, he always found a way to those explanatory words and would feel comfortable using them.

She sat down at the kitchen table and watched the big man turn the bacon and place some pieces on a plate. He moved with expert-sure movements; in whatever he seemed to be doing, he always exuded a certain amount of finesse, confidence an aura around him. Haruhi sighed and leaned her head down on the tabletop.

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Mori," she spoke quietly, and if she had been looking at the big man she would've noticed him halting in his movements and turning slightly to look back at her. "I feel like I'm grasping at air."

"I think most dreams feel like that," Mori said after a moment.

"Empty?"

"Like we may never reach them. But you will," he said in his deep voice.

"Do you want some help?" Haruhi asked after raising her head and looking at Mori's solid back for a few unguarded moments.

Mori glanced towards her before looking back down at his pan full of sizzling meat and grinned.

"No. Go sleep. I'll wake you when it's done."

She was ready to argue, but that was before she remembered how tired she was. Wasn't she afraid a few minutes ago because she thought she wouldn't get to sleep?

"Ok… Thanks senpai."

When she made it to her room, she took no time in falling into her bed. She hardly noticed that everything was cleaner than when she had left it before she closed her eyes and slipped into unconsciousness.

…

The rest of the hosts appeared only moments after Haruhi left the kitchen for her room in search of solace. Lucky for her though, Mori kept them away as long as he could. They ate the breakfast/dinner without her and skipped off to bed, all except Mori who was actually on his way out for the morning. After he cleaned up the host's breakfast/dinner mess, he went and woke up the sleeping Haruhi, told her there was a plate of food waiting for her, and yes it was a big plate, then he gathered up his backpack and left for the day. The sun wasn't rising yet, but it soon would, it was nearly six in the morning.

Meanwhile, Haruhi sat alone, at the kitchen counter, eating her food in complete and utter silence. It was a sound that hardly ever filled the hosts' home. She only heard the munching of her bacon and the gentle, hardly audible smacks as she chewed the soft pancakes. Her hair was in tangles and she was positive the small amount of makeup she wore was smudged, but she didn't care. She would care about it in about two more hours, when she had to get ready to be around her classmates and professors… her fellow competitors and the names she needed to impress. She couldn't care less around the men that might as well be her brothers. A title she decided to give them not too long ago and yet would never tell them of. There would be too much screaming if she did.

…

Kaoru sat by himself in the back of the class. It was the only class he didn't have with Hikaru and quite frankly, he wasn't even sure why he was taking it. Actually he couldn't even remember the name of it. So he normally used his time in here to think. He'd been hopelessly wondering what could of happened to The Butler members, because once they left the burlesque club, there was no further shows or tours to be had. It was almost like they disappeared entirely. Perhaps they had.

Kaoru let out a sigh, not to be heard by anyone but himself. He really liked hanging out with his favorite band, it made him sad when they just left without a word, and it broke his heart completely when the band seemed to part ways.

It just so happened, that as Kaoru was mulling over these things he began to look through his phone to pass the time; however, this wasn't what seemed out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was that he had an extra contact that had been added, but not a contact he remembered ever putting in there himself. It read: Little Red RIDING Hood;} 3 XOXO

He blinked. The number wasn't familiar. He decided to send a message.

Little Red, I seem to have acquired your suspicious number for some reason or another… and I was hoping you might reveal who you actually are?

Whoever it was texted back almost immediately.

I've been waiting and waiting on this blasted couch for… about ever! For you to finally text me, dear little firecracker;} how are you? And could this text possibly mean that you're ready for a little ride? 3

Kaoru read over the text several times, still trying to figure out who in the world it could possibly be. (He wasn't good at the mysteries you see.) He was rather bored though, Hikaru hadn't been giving him nearly enough attention since finals were just around the corner. In all honesty Hikaru hadn't been giving either Kaoru or their classes enough attention, he'd been meeting up with Haruhi between her classes and for lunch with no regard for whether or not he'd be missing his own classes. All the ex-hosts were still madly infatuated, all of them except Kaoru. He still loved her, but truly like a sister. Actually, he hadn't shown interest in any girls for a while, other than what size they were, body type, what would look most flattering on their mediocre bodies. He'd become so accustomed to seeing and touching women's bodies, it just wasn't exciting anymore. He found himself checking girls out, but for entirely different reasons than most other men would. He saw their clothes, that's about it.

I'm ready for just about anything out of the ordinary.

And he was.

…

He sat on the couch, covered in blood, and not much else. Not his blood of course. Sebastian didn't bleed. It was the blood of the many women that laid and lounged about him. Luring women into his home, having his way with them then bleeding them dry had become his new drug. He'd only found one out of this gaggle that was woman enough to devour whole, and now she was gone. Women were such insipid, needy creatures.

His eyes which had been shut, relaxing in the smell of his harvest flew open as he heard tip-tapping footsteps coming down the hall. He knew exactly who it was, but it was always a surprise to find what that someone wanted or had done.

"Oh God, Bassy, I can't say I'm very fond of finding you eating all of these women, I'd much rather you just eat me!"

"You know, I think most people found our murderous relationship more interesting than… whatever we are now," Sebastian mused.

"Oh, not to worry! I'll kill you one day! Maybe tonight if you don't clean all of this up by the time I return."

"Why is that?"

"I have a date! I might bring him home, if you know what I mean~!" Grell swooned, kicking a lifeless body out of his way.

Sebastian finally looked over at the red haired maniac. "What have you done to yourself?"

"I cut my hair! Oh and I got some contacts! Does it look like a dashing disguise? I hardly recognized myself!" He replied proudly, running his no longer gloved hands through his new hairdo.

Sebastian stood, walking towards his once known enemy while Grell looked at himself in the small mirror they had in this particular room.

"I'm not used to seeing you wearing clothes that lack so much… red," Sebastian drawled.

"Hm. And I'm sorry to say I miss your butler garb… it always did fit you better than nothing," Grell purred.

"But really… only a red t-shirt? That isn't nearly enough," He said before grabbing Grell's face with his hands, streaking blood on the reaper's porcelain skin.

Grell stared at Sebastian for a moment. "I have to wash my face now," Grell said with no inflection. "I know you're going to find this hard to believe, Bassy, but… Now don't get me wrong, I still adore you, but I'm ready for some sort of change."

They stared at each other in the mirror for a moment. Then Grell turned and looked Sebastian in the face.

"Pardon?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm tired of you always looking at me with disgust, always treating me like I'm a raving lunatic, thinking in that sharp mind of yours that I can never possibly amount to anything, can't be loved by anyone…" Grell's voice didn't waver and their gazes never broke. Simmering russet and blue-cloaked green. "I'm starting work this week as a psychologist, starting off at the ward until I've had some success… I'm making something of myself. Maybe you should try the same."

"That's… an idiotic thought. You're a reaper Grell, you can't be anything else," Sebastian spoke, rummaging between the bodies for his clothes.

"I can at least pretend. I've always been a wonderful actor! Later Bassy, I'm gonna go get me some ginger ass!" And Grell whipped out a scarlet hanky as he waltz out the door.

Sebastian stared at the door, not sure what to think and quite frankly, he wasn't ready to think at all.

…

A dog following the heels of its master, starving for attention. That's the last thing I remember Kaoru saying to me. He had jokes in his eyes and laughter in his throat, but I couldn't miss the pain in his features. I've been paying more attention to Haruhi than him lately and I guess it's finally bothering him. I hadn't really thought about it though until he finally said something. I don't know where he is right now though, he hasn't said anything to me all day, so I'm unaware of his whereabouts and quite frankly, it's a bit offsetting. He never fails to inform me about where he's going or to invite me, but this time, he's left without a trace.

Haruhi steps out of her classroom, finally, and thoughts of Kaoru slip from my mind. She looks up and finds me with her dark eyes, unsurprised, looking just as tired as she did this morning. It makes me sad to see her like that. It makes me want to take her away to some private island (one I own of course) and just let her sleep to her hearts content… In my arms obviously. That thought makes me smile. The smile she gives me is all fake though, it doesn't reach her eyes; her mind is obviously still in class, in those thick books she's bent on carrying everywhere she goes. I really wanted to be the person that could bring her mind back to her body, where she stood, what was happening in the moment, but I never can. I'm not sure any of us can.

I'm anticipating graduation. Really hard. …That's such a strange saying, I still don't quite understand it I think.

"Ready for dinner?" I ask, already making the decision that we'll go somewhere nice, slightly secluded, but casual. I want her to feel relaxed, Haruhi has never felt comfortable in our standard more posh environments, something Tamaki has been pushing on her since her arrival into our lives. I don't mind that she doesn't really like it, I used to not get it, but now I'd become a commoner in a heartbeat for her.

"Sure," she says, hefting her books and coming to my side. Her smile looks a little more genuine now; she always has gotten excited about food, at least that hasn't changed.

I take her books from her, ignoring her protests and bring her in for a side hug. One of my back-row buddies told me it's totally fine to greet a girl that way, even if she is just a friend.

"What're you doing?" she asks.

"Saying hi," I say, feeling my ears burn and I'm glad my hair's grown out. "So I know just the place to eat, I think you'll like it, lots of meat."

I lead her off campus, down side streets. It would've taken me forever to get used to this place if it wasn't for the friends Kaoru and I made our first few weeks here… well, the friends Kaoru made, they ended up being my friends too eventually. I wasn't actually ever introduced to them, they just always thought I was Kaoru in the halls. Then they eventually saw us together and… that was a laugh. Americans have the best facial expressions. They wear every emotion on their sleeve.

So, I take her through the city streets, and this man walks up to me and asks me to try the latest energy drink.

"Don't poison me," I say, and take hold of Haruhi's hand, pulling her away before she gets coerced into trying the strange-blue-chemically-looking shit.

"Where're we going anyway? I've never been back, uh, down? Here, before," Haruhi says, her hand still in mine, she's looking around at all the neon lights, probably too distracted to noticed I've laced our fingers together.

"Right here, watch your step, it's kind of dark," I say, and it is. We walk down a small little hidden flight of stairs and through the squeaky door of Hugo's, a little rusty bell clanking our arrival. A waitress in jeans and tank top greets us with a toothy grin, her red lipstick looking almost black in this lighting; the perfect atmosphere for NOT studying. The waitress picks up two menus and beckons us with her tattooed hand to follow. I look over at Haruhi; her eyes are super wide and her hand clutches at mine… It's pretty cute.

After we're seated, in a small booth, one of us on each side, Haruhi watches the waitress leave then gets up and scrambles over to my side of the booth.

"Where are we?" she whispers, but she might as well be speaking normally.

"Hugo's, it's a burger joint. Which you would've known if you opened your menu," I say, grabbing her menu and opening it for her. She stares at it, then takes it from me, reading with a serious expression on her face. I knew she'd like it.

I start perusing the list of drinks when I hear the laugh. I haven't heard that laugh since before this last semester began and I'm instantly looking around for the owner, for Kaoru and I find him easily. Across the way, he's sitting at the bar with another guy, but not one of our friends, someone else… someone who looks strangely familiar and yet not familiar at all. The strange guy is talking in quiet tones now, and they're leaning closer to each other, then this odd smile starts making its way across the man's mouth and Kaoru laughs again. That full kind of laugh where he flings his head back and has to close his eyes… he's only ever done that around me. Alone.

"Are you guys ready to order?" the waitress asks and I tear my eyes off my brother.

"Yeah, I'll have this one, please," Haruhi says pointing. "With extra bacon."

"Chips or fries?"

"Fries, please."

"And you?" the waitress looks at me.

"Same, but can you add jalapenos?" I ask.

"Sure can. And can I get you anything else to drink besides water?"

"I'll have a Heineken, and she'll have…" I point at the drink on the menu. "This girly sounding one, it's good right?"

"Yep, I'll have those right out, thanks guys," and she's off.

"Hey, isn't that Kaoru?" Haruhi asks me.

"Yeah," I say.

"Should we say hi?" she asks and starts to get up but I grab her wrist.

"I don't think so," I say, not looking at her but I can feel her eyes studying me.

"Why?" she asks as she sits back down.

"He didn't tell me about it," I say.

She's quiet for a moment as we both study the two red heads.

"Is he on a date?" she asks.

"I don't know."

"You don't know."

"Yep, don't know."

"He's on a date," she concludes just as our drinks arrive.

He's on a date. And I didn't even know he's actually gay.

…

"Welcome! To Undie's Flower Shop!" Cried the Undertaker as two new customers entered his frilly little shop. He'd even changed his normal black and deathly attire to match the place. He wore a billowy white shirt along with dark denim and a white and pink striped apron to top it all off. He hardly ever wore his hat anymore, but he'd kept his silver hair long and brilliant, a single clip in place to show off his stunning eyes and signature scar. A pink clip.

"How may I help you today?" He asked the elderly lady that had wandered into the sweet smelling and radiant little store. "We're having a special on funeral arrays!"

"Funeral? Oh, no, I just need a bouquet for my girl, she's on Broadway, I'm so proud of her," the elderly lady said, a bit worriedly as she eyed the strange looking shop owner.

"Oh, I see, perhaps some… Roses, then? Those seem to be the popular congratulatory flower choice."

"Oh no, she never did like roses much."

"Then maybe just a giant sunflower? She won't be getting many of those."

"You know, that sounds perfect."

"Wonderful!"

Undertaker smiled happily as the woman left the shop, the sunflower about as big as her head. It really was perfect. He'd made sure of that. Then he began the small task of cleaning up the 'Assembling Table;' he'd finally gotten the plaque made this week and was quite proud of it, the word 'Assembling' had turned out especially well, the two S's all swirling and shit. It was spectacular. He had just enough time to straighten it when the door flung open with a terrible clang and a resounding bang as it was shoved shut again, letting in that blond whirlwind of a person who'd been in the shop twice already this week, once just to browse and ruin a few things, the second time was a rather horrendous breakdown in which Undies lost several customers, and now… Undies flipped the open sign off and hid his newly beloved plaque.

"You, Undies! I need a bouquet, quick! I have to stop her!"

"I'm just closing for the day, you'll have to leave," Undies replied in a monotonous tone.

"What? You stay open to ungodly hours! That's what it says on your sign!" Tamaki bellowed.

"It does say that, I'm surprised and delighted that you noticed," Undies smiled.

"Anyway, I need a bouquet!"

"Ok fine, I'll stay open… but only if you can tell me a good joke," Undies smile grew larger.

"A joke. … What?! A joke!? This is no joking matter! I have to ask Haruhi to marry me!"

There was a pause.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Undies' laughter was quite raucous. "Again?! That's the funniest thing I've heard all month. And look at you; you think you actually have a chance… Ahaha… How long has it been? A week?"

Tamaki looked positively depressed. "A week and a half. But I have to. I know her and Hikaru – that little slut – went to eat tonight, I followed them until I got lost… he didn't even take her somewhere fancy! What was he thinking? All those dark alleyways… and NEON LIGHTS!" Tamaki grabbed fistfuls of his hair and collapsed to the ground in momentary hysterics. "It's like he was taking her to the RED LIGHT DISTRICT! OHHHHH! My poor baby!"

"You're possibly the craziest person I've ever met. And I'm pretty old you know, and pretty crazy… and I know Grell," Undies nodded to himself.

"ME?! CRAZY?! How can you even say something like that when YOU'RE trying to sell funeral arrangements to LIVING old ladies!" he exclaimed as he stood up straight and karate-chopped through a lovely ensemble of gardenias.

"I'll add that to your tab," Undies spoke.

"Fine, and just get me a bouquet," Tamaki seethed.

"You can take the smashed one to your left."

"NO! I want a new one!"

"You can say you traversed a dangerous forest to get to her."

"GET ME A NEW ONE!"

"What a finicky brat you are."

"You'll be selling two bouquet this way, just get me another one!"

Undies smile turned paternal. "So you have been learning something in those classes."

"Well duh, I read all of Kyoya's notes. He's extremely precise for someone who needs glasses."

"That makes no sense."

"So you'll get me a different bouquet?" Tamaki asked.

"On the double, Milady!"

"I want one with pink and white and frilly ribbons."

"I'll give you one out of the freeze," Undies raised his brows.

"A readymade one?"

"They've been keeping fresh of course, dead all the same though you know. Dying at least."

"Make it in front of me."

"It'll cost you."

"I don't care."

"Course you don't, and you won't get the girl this time either. You haven't even asked her to date you," Undies' glare was meaningful.

"I dated her already. This is just the next step."

"How far did you get?" Undies asked, getting out the pink tea-roses and a pair of lovingly dried red roses; they were practically black.

"No! no black ones. By the way, I have to ask because you seem so lucid: Are you drunk?" Tamaki asked, snatching away the black roses and promptly depositing them on the floor.

"I'm not drunk, and you didn't answer my question. Which means first base," Undies grinned.

"What!? How does me not answering equal that?!"

Undies just stared at him for a moment, then got out the Baby Romantica. "You've only ever gotten to first, haven't you?"

"Wha-!? No! of course I've gone all the way! With Haruhi! Only Haruhi! All the time!"

Undies began to cackle. "Virgin," Undies snickered.

Tamaki sucked in a breath, "Don't call me that! I'm not That, not that word. That's a terrible thing to say!"

"Do you even know what it means?"

"OF COURSE I KNOW! The twins told me all about it… I nearly puked. I did a little, but only in my mouth. It's an awful, awful word," Tamaki shook his head, a very disappointed look on his face.

"It means you've never had sexual intercourse. So you mean to tell me that Haruhi is traipsing around having unmarried sex?"

There was a pause. The pause stretched on for quite a while as Undies finished off the bouquet with a flourish of lace-ribbons and a dusting of sparkles. All the while Tamaki stared at him, slack-jawed, blinking slowly. The bouquet was utterly repulsive in its girly nature, Undies was certain Haruhi would think it nothing but frivolous. Perfect. The bimbo before him was assured a solid 'No.'

"I would never dirty my darling girl, she's completely innocent," Tamaki finally said, straightening himself and brushing off his shirt front.

"So you admit you've never done the nasty?"

Tamaki's hand hid his mouth as his face turned beat red. "I admit it."

"Virgin," Undies grinned, ringing up the total.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!"

"Your total is 154.89."

"That's it?"

"Oh, I miscalculated, an even thousand will suffice," Undies smiled.

"Ok, good, I can say I spent way too much or what not," Tamaki paid and left without breaking anything else. Scratch that. He shut the door so hard on his way out the bell fell off and shattered on the floor.

"I should have charged him more…"

But the Undertaker wasn't too perturbed. He took out his little 'Assembling Table' plaque and smiled that ruthless smile of his.

The front door opened and shut almost soundlessly, thanks to the lack of a bell, but the Undertaker noticed the new customer nonetheless. His eyes moved towards the figure, the smile he'd prepared slowly fading as he took in the waif young man. They made no conversation as the boy picked out a single red rose and brought it to the counter.

"Four seventy-three." The boy paid. "Have a nice day…" And then he left.

Somehow, even though he came in every day for his one rose, the Undertaker could never get used to the sight of the boy. He could never look into those red-ish brown eyes.


	22. Brothers

Hikaru sat in his bedroom alone, in the bedroom that he shared with his other half. He sat at the end of their bed, his arms crossed as he waited and waited for the moment that the bedroom door would open to reveal the object of his livid feelings. He'd been there a while, but he refused to go to bed. True, he was sitting in the dark, and could feel his eyelids getting heavy, but he had to make sure Kaoru actually came home tonight. He had faith that he would, but he was also concerned what state he might appear in. His lack of communication with his twin lately had brought up a kind of wall between them, a wall he hadn't noticed until a few hours ago. He had decided that there was probably a lot more Kaoru had been keeping from him than just his apparent sexual orientation. There was something inside him that led him to believe his brother was being used, in a way most distasteful. What all had Kaoru been keeping from him?

Finally, the doorknob began to rattle, in such a way, it was obvious the person entering was trying to be discreet. Kaoru was even trying to hide the hour he was arriving back home. It only caused the suspicions in Hikaru to grow that much more. He took a glance at their alarm-clock. It was 3 AM.

Dim light seeped onto the carpet as the lanky man entered, his movements cautious as he shut the door once again.

"Where were you?" Hikaru's voice questioned as soon as Kaoru had closed the door.

Even in the darkness Hikaru could see his sibling jump at his words. The elder twin stood from the bed to turn on a single lamp.

"Hikaru… you're still up…" It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. So are you. Doing what, I have no idea."

"Doing what? I wasn't doing anything. I'm 22 years old, you don't need to wait up on me."

"Really? Because I think otherwise."

"I don't know what the big deal is Hikaru, really, I wasn't doing anything, I was just out."

"With who?"

"Friends."

"Plural?"

"… Uh, yeah?"

"You don't know?"

Kaoru let out a laugh. Hikaru would be the only person who could tell how nervous that laugh really was. And he did. "What's the big deal? I was hanging out with friends, stop being such a nagging wife." Kaoru joked as he began to remove his shirt, his body turned towards their dressers, as if he were shy about his body or was just purposely hiding himself.

"I wouldn't have to be a 'nagging wife' if you weren't cheating on me."

Kaoru paused, the shirt still on his arms before he turned his head, just slightly towards his brother. Hikaru could only make out his profile.

"What… what do you mean?" Kaoru's voice was small and hesitant, a way of speaking Hikaru had hardly ever heard from his normally boisterous twin.

"I mean, I saw you with that guy. I saw him touching you and I saw you letting him… and I saw you laugh… You only laugh that way with me." Hikaru said, his voice stern at first before it slowly began to sink in a way akin to hurt. He took small steps towards his brother before setting his hands on his shoulders. "What's going on Kaoru? What's happened?" He asked as his hands skimmed down his brother's back before wrapping around him, his head nuzzling into his neck, his hands pressed into his chest.

"I think…" the younger began to say, his voice wavering and thin. "… I'm gay…" the pain in his voice made Hikaru hurt just as bad. As he felt his brother trembling with the promise of tears he could only hug him tighter. "Do you… Do you hate me now?"

"How could I hate my better half?" Hikaru asked, the thought of Kaoru thinking he could ever hate him bringing a new kind of ache to his soul.

Kaoru began to cry harder and Hikaru didn't let go.

…

He burst into her room, much like the way he did in the flower shop. Except this time there was no bell to break, and he didn't slam the door shut, he did shut it, he made sure to, but it wasn't slammed, so that was good. Haruhi looked at him groggily from her bed, her head pillowed by a rather large text book, she was squinting terribly because her awful thick-rimmed glasses were askew on her face. She raised her head and they promptly fell off. She was practically blind.

"Haruhi," Tamaki said, a bit breathless, he had been running for many blocks.

"Tamaki?" Haruhi asked of the dim room.

"I have to ask you something," Tamaki said, traversing the cluttered floor to Haruhi's rumpled bed.

"Can it wait? Like maybe until after finals?" Haruhi asked, shoving the book she'd been laying on onto the floor, nearly smashing Tamaki's toes.

"No, it's something that can't be prolonged any longer!" Tamaki bellowed and swung the frilly bouquet out from behind his back, gracing the floor with dislodged sparkles and flower petals.

"Oh… I see," she was squinting so hard her eyes were nearly shut; she couldn't actually see anything. Eventually she leaned over the side of the bed to search for her glasses. "Have you seen my glasses?"

"What? Oh, yes, they're right here," and Tamaki plucked the ugly things off the floor and placed them in Haruhi's hands. "Now, onto my question…" he took a deep breath. "Fujioka Haruhi, will you give me the honor of being my wife?"

Haruhi took in the hideous bouquet and the small velvet box she'd seen all of three times now containing that huge monster of a diamond ring. She sighed, covering her face with her hands.

"Can I take that as a yes? Your emotions are overwhelming aren't they? Overflowing like I always imagined they would," Tamaki sighed in contentment.

"No," Haruhi said looking at Tamaki with a frown. "I told you no twice and I told you not to ask again. We're not even dating."

"Well, we've already done that, this is just-"

"Then we broke up and now we're only friends, friends don't ask friends to marry them," Haruhi said.

"Then what are wives and husbands? Not friends?! They have to be friends to like each other!" Tamaki wailed.

"It's different Tamaki," Haruhi sighed again. "Marriage is a very serious thing… or is it just some kind of game to you?"

Tamaki took a wounded step back as if he'd been struck. His eyes grew wide. "A game!? Of course not! This is a very serious matter."

Haruhi was silent for a moment. She glanced at the bouquet of flowers once again then back at the ginormous ring before running her hands through her hair in frustration. "You've got to be kidding… you're such a joke."

They were both quiet for a moment and Tamaki lowered the bouquet, realization blooming across Haruhi's face as she became aware of the hurt growing on Tamaki's.

"I had to stop you," Tamaki said.

"What?"

"You and Hikaru, I saw you both going down those dark alleys," Tamaki looked up at Haruhi, hurt swimming in his violet eyes.

"You were following us?"

"Yes, yes I was. I can never be sure with you, what if you…" he stopped for a moment and looked away from her, shutting the ring-box and shoving it in his pocket.

"This is why we broke up in the first place. You don't trust me, you can never leave me alone, you have to always be 'looking out' for me and that's not healthy. I'm not helpless and I'm not a possession you can put on a shelf and keep only for you."

Tamaki looked back up at the girl sitting on the bed, the young woman he hardly knew anymore.

"I'm not your prisoner."

No words could form in his mind as what she said replayed over and over again.

He stood and could feel his face growing hot. Before he could throw a tantrum he set the bouquet on her bed and left the room, shutting the door soundlessly behind him. Kyoya was leaning against the opposite wall, waiting and Tamaki let his breath out in a long sigh.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice filled with a type of venom that Kyoya wasn't sure he'd ever heard before.

There was no response, causing Tamaki to sigh once more. "I was kind of hoping you'd say something… no matter what it may have been…" it was clear Tamaki had cut himself off, that he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.

Kyoya remained silent, but his head was spinning as Tamaki went on his way. So… Haruhi refused him again. How many times would she have to refuse, Kyoya wondered, would she refuse for the last time?... Five.

"… Five?" He said to himself, wondering how that number entered his mind before he heard something else. Turning his head to the end of the hall, where a single window stood, he saw a crow on a branch.

…

It was the kind of time you don't really know whether to call night or morning. Late night? Early morning? But regardless of the time, it didn't change the fact that Grell had been gone for hours and Sebastian was right where Grell had left him: on the couch. It was a nice surprise to find that all the corpses from before had been removed though.

Grell's steps were light as he frolicked across the living room, going in front of the mirror from before as he hummed and shook his fanny in jubilance!

"Oh, Bassy! I think I'm in love!" Grell sing-songed.

Sebastian only stared from his lounging position on the couch.

"It was an impeccable evening! I didn't even peck him and I don't mind!" Grell grabbed Sebastian's bare feet and lifted them so he could sit down on the couch, then placed them back on his lap. "Do you feel as strange about this as I do? We didn't even do the nasty!"

"Normally, humans don't on the first date," Sebastian remarked matter-of-factly.

"You forget, I'm not human," Grell mused.

"No, I don't forget, I'm constantly reminding you of what you really are of late," Sebastian said.

"You're trying to ruin my mood, aren't you Bassy? Well, you can't! My heart is afloat! High above the clouds, it soars, and no one can touch it or do anything about it! Only Kaoru has the power!" Grell squirmed before falling back into the cushion of the couch and sighing contentedly.

Sebastian blinked in momentary question. "Kaoru? You mean one of those twins from the burlesque club?"

"Yes," Grell sighed, closing his eyes as if he were imagining him right in that moment. Then he promptly shoved Sebastian's legs off his lap, then the rest of the somber dark haired man off the couch and he immediately took residence of the cushions, wiggling atop them until he was suitably comfortable.

"You're sleeping in here?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm not sleeping. Not yet," Grell's voice had taken on a certain tone that Sebastian wasn't sure he'd ever heard from the flaming red-head before. He didn't sound as feminine or nasally, it was more like… a normal voice.

Sebastian stared from his spot on the floor up at his former partner in crime. His eyes traveled up the bare, smooth arms, elegant in their own way, interrupted only briefly by the red t-shirt, lingering momentarily on the porcelain flesh of Grell's neck, the slight bob of his Adam's apple. Then Grell's eyes turned to Sebastian and they locked.

"Don't look at me that way, Sebastian."

"You never complained before."

Sebastian's sneaky fingers found the hem of Grell's shirt, traveled slightly up to touch the soft skin of his hip.

"I know what you're doing, and it won't work."

"What is that?" Sebastian asked.

"You're trying to prove that I can't possibly fall for anyone… but you."

"No. I'm trying to seduce you."

Grell responded with a subdued chuckle as he took Sebastian's wandering hand in his own and held it. "It's about that time isn't it?" Grell asked.

"I suppose it is," Sebastian conceded.

"Will you answer this time?"

"No."

"You should soon, I think," Grell's thumb ran the span of Sebastian's knuckles.

"No."

Grell sighed, his hand slipping away from Sebastian's, but before he could completely break their contact, Sebastian's fingers jumped to Grell's wrist and gripped tightly. He pulled upward, Grell's body following suit, his other hand becoming a useless barrier between them as Sebastian pushed against him, smothering his mouth with his own. His hand ran up Grell's shirt as he parted Grell's lips with his tongue, trying to fuel any kind of desire that might be cultivating inside him. But Grell didn't respond. He didn't kiss or feel back and he didn't even try to get away. He just took it.

Sebastian pulled a few inches away, just to see what Grell's face looked like, to see if he could read him. He couldn't. Grell was completely blank.

"I'm moving out soon," was Grell's first response.

The doorbell rang.

"Goodnight, Sebastian," and Grell stood and left the room.

Sebastian wasn't sure how long he sat there after Grell left, but finally, he willed himself up. And dragged his feet across the bloodstained carpet and to the entryway. His hand gripped the door handle before twisting and opening. No one stood outside, just as Sebastian knew they wouldn't be, but there was something there. A single red rose sat on the welcome mat. He bent over to pick it up, his eyes looking from the petals to the sidewalk. No one was there either.

Maybe someday, he'd actually answer the door before they left.

…

"WHO DIDN'T FLUSH!?" Undies bellowed, disturbing all his present customers. No one answered, surprisingly enough. "Well… Don't worry, I flushed it. The bathroom is now safe for the general public again! All thanks to me!"

…

I sit in my favorite corner of my favorite café. I come here fairly often and I always come alone. I'm on lunch break. Tamaki is always trying to get me to come with him to all his favorite restaurants, all of which are fancy and always filled to the brim. They're also very loud, and therefore don't promote a good atmosphere for studying, or at least thinking; I don't do much studying nowadays. I could ace these American tests with my eyes closed while intoxicated.

There's a spider on the ceiling above me, just sitting there and I wonder for a moment if it's even alive. Not that it matters. Its presence doesn't even bother me, in fact, I feel somewhat calm.

I blink my eyes, the things in front of me seeming suddenly blurry. So I remove my glasses and it all becomes clear again. Ever since that night in my burlesque club, I've been having episodes like this, and each time it makes me wonder if what I saw when I walked through that door was actually true. That kid told me to play the game, to make sure my friends and the people that accompanied us played as well and if I did, he promised me something, something "better than my wildest dreams"… something that I can't remember now. He's making my eyesight better? Is that what he's doing for me? No matter how hard and long I think of it, I can't remember his final words and I can't recall what he promised. And it pisses me off.

The gentle buzz of my phone vibrating on my single person table jolts me away from my thoughts. My sight is blurry once again. I put my glasses back on so I can read the caller ID of whoever's trying to contact me. It's my sister.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Kyoya," she sounds frantic, her voice stuffy with past tears and the promise of more to come.

"Fuyumi, what's wrong?" I ask, knowing I should sound concerned, but for some reason I'm not. I feel as if I know this moment, and what she says confirms it.

"Our brothers… They were in an accident. They're dead," and her weeping is a tangible thing, even though she lives a world away I can feel her grief enter me for a brief moment. In that brief moment, it feels as if the world could shatter. The realization that everything I saw, behind that far away door, will come to be is robbing me of my breath.

I didn't respond, couldn't, only hung up and turned off my phone. It feels like the world around me is getting smaller, so small it could fit through that ugly door in my burlesque club; it's hard to breathe.

...

Honey hadn't met him for lunch again. He'd quit keeping count of how many times they'd made plans and Honey failed to follow through; it made him too depressed. It would be less painful if Honey just declined the offer instead of going back on his word.

He let out a short sigh before deciding that Honey wasn't coming and he should leave. He was about to stand when something caught his attention. The tall pale man entered the café with an air of assurance about him, he briefly scanned the room and stopped when his dark russet eyes landed on Mori. A smile pulled up the corners of his mouth as he began to make his way to Mori's table. Mori blinked several times as the ominous man took a seat across the table from him.

"Were you meeting someone?" Mori asked, bewildered by the fact that this man would come here alone.

"Not anymore," Sebastian said, picking up the idle menu in front of him. "Have you eaten?" he asked.

"No, I'm waiting for someone," Mori said.

"Really? It seemed to me that you were about to leave." Sebastian responded in complete confidence.

"I was waiting for someone…"

"They bailed?"

"No… they just couldn't make it."

"I see," Sebastian said. "Well, seeing as how you haven't eaten, allow me to treat you," he finished with a practiced smile.

"You don't need to do that."

"I insist… perhaps you can pay me back later."

"It's ok, I'll just go," Mori stood to leave.

"Really, Mori, I want to treat you," Sebastian said, no force behind his words; clearly he wasn't lying.

Mori looked down at the pale man, and found that he looked completely relaxed sitting in this less-than-posh café. He looked as if Mori was exactly the person he wanted to see and be with in this moment. And all those facts made it a lot harder for Mori to leave without his conscience eating at him later, so he sat back down. Sebastian's smile broadened as he lifted his hand in motion that they were ready to order.

"Oh, so your friend finally showed up," the waitress said, all stiff cheer and fake smiles.

"Yes, traffic was murder," Sebastian expression was flawlessly angelic and quickly won the waitress over.

"It would be this time of day," the waitress grinned. "What can I get for you two?"

"We'll both have…" and the pale man proceeded to order the most complicated order Mori had ever heard, he failed to remember any of what he said, because he spoke so quickly, using words that even the waitress seemed to have a hard time understanding.

"I'm sorry sir… could you repeat that?" the waitress requested, an apologetic look on her young features.

"Maybe you'd like me to write it down instead," Sebastian gestured for the small notepad the waitress held and she quickly relinquished it into his capable hands.

Mori and the girl watched in undisturbed attention as Sebastian scribed their order in pristine lettering; it was a shame the leaf of paper would soon be grease-stained and then unceremoniously tossed out. It took hardly no time for him to write it all out; that long list of instructions, so immaculately written, took no more than a mere thirty seconds. The girl studied the paper for a few seconds, her eyebrows raised in awe.

When the waitress was gone and they were as much alone as they'd ever really been, Mori gave Sebastian a dry once over. There was something different about the man, but he was having trouble placing it. Perhaps it was the smiles; he used them as if he were flaunting them somehow, as if he wanted to believe he hadn't a care in the world. That's when Mori saw, all at once, the sameness he and Sebastian shared; they hadn't always, but they did now and he wondered why.

"Who left you?" Mori asked the smiling man in front of him, the man whose smile slowly faded out of focus.

"Pardon?" his voice was crisp, not at all the languid sound it once had been.

"You heard me," Mori said.

Sebastian squinted his eyes at Mori and drummed his long, pale fingers on the table top. "Yes," he mused. "I did hear you, but I'm sorry to say that I failed to catch your meaning."

"You know what I meant," Mori said, pouring himself a coffee from the thermos on the table.

Sebastian stared.

"I thought you were in vet school, not psychology."

"True," Mori conceded. "But I'm friends with Haruhi… and Kyoya," as if this were explanation enough.

"I feel this would have to be more of personal intuition, not because you're acquainted with certain humans."

Mori couldn't help but notice the way Sebastian said humans, as if he himself wasn't one.

"So tell me Mori, who was it that you've lost?"

"I asked first."

Sebastian sat back in his chair, crossing his sleeveless arms.

"In all honesty," Sebastian spoke. "I've lost two people, one of which I'm currently in the process of losing to a friend of yours I believe."

Mori hadn't been expecting that. The confession caused him to lose –but only slightly- his commonly known mask of apathy, questions alighting in his black eyes. "What friend?"

"Hmm… His name has something to do with fragrance I believe," Sebastian said, watching Mori closely.

"… Kaoru?"

"Yes, the younger twin?"

"Yeah…"

"He and Grell seem to be getting along, possibly getting it on as we speak," Sebastian raised his eyebrows.

"Kaoru has class," Mori said vaguely.

"Later, perhaps," Sebastian amended.

"Kaoru isn't like that… Kaoru isn't gay," Mori said in realization of the fact that Grell is male.

Sebastian gestured to the thermos of coffee and, when Mori nodded, he poured himself a cup. He brought the cup just below his elegant nose and took a whiff. "This isn't at all how I would make it," and he set the cup down. "Regarding Kaoru, I believe he is what you call 'out of the closet' now."

It took a moment for the content of Sebastian's words to sink in.

"Not to me." Mori replied, but then again he'd never been exceptionally close with Kaoru, only Hikaru. Surely Hikaru would have told him if his brother had confessed to being gay though… It seemed Mori was losing more relationships than he realized.

"Why the long face, my friend?" Sebastian smiled.

"I feel like this place is taking things from me," Mori said, taking a sip of his wrongly brewed coffee.

"You didn't answer my question."

"I don't want to. Besides, you didn't really answer mine."

"Touché."

Their eyes remained locked as silence filled the air about them, almost as if there was no one else present, it was only them. That spell-like sensation shattered as the waitress returned, bearing a heavy laden tray of comestibles. Sebastian watched her, thinking to himself that, for humans, it hadn't been nearly enough time for them to correctly follow all of his instructions. After the waitress had adorned the table with the food, she wasted no time in hurrying off.

"Well, at least she's a hard worker," Sebastian said.

They began to eat the mediocre food, and Sebastian immediately realized that they hadn't paid any attention to the instructions he'd given. They could say goodbye to a nice tip, that was for sure. Mori didn't seem upset by the ill-derived taste however, which made Sebastian feel a little better for some reason; he smiled a little as he put his fork down.

"Don't like it?" Mori asked, not looking up.

"I was just thinking I could do a better job. If you'd allow me, I'd love to cook for you sometime," Sebastian said.

"I've had your cooking before," Mori's eyes caught Sebastian's. "What is it that you really want from me?"

"Not impressed? Fine, I'd like to offer you something," and as Sebastian spoke that silence filled the air, seeming to cloak the two from all else around them. "Something I feel you'd be quite interested in."

Mori watched in hidden curiosity, he knew his expression gave nothing away to the thoughts that lay behind it. He didn't speak, wishing for Sebastian to continue without his interest showing through.

Sebastian smirked. Somehow he seemed to see, to sense the wondering that went on within the man across from him. Mori shifted in his seat.

"Your friends. You're losing them, wouldn't you like them back?" Came Sebastian's words and as soon as they came past his lips, the world around them seemed to dim in color and light, almost as if Sebastian's very voice could blot out the world from Mori's mind.

Although Mori noticed his sudden disinterest in all except Sebastian, he couldn't bring himself to be aware of the world again. He could only stare at russet orbs that slowly began to glow and gain a hue unnatural to most others. Mori couldn't quite make it out.

"… What did you have in mind?" Mori couldn't help but ask.

Sebastian's smile grew.

…

Everyone was home for once, excluding Mori, so basically everyone. They were all in the living room, for some reason, when Kyoya walked in, stoic in his demeanor, even though he'd been out all day trying to figure out what exactly had happened with his brothers and if it really was imperative that he went home. It seemed a pity to have to rush through finals in advance. Fortunately, it seemed that he could skip having to tell his roommates one at a time, and instead could tell them all at once. So he did.

"My brothers have perished and I return to Japan tomorrow," he said in that bland manner he'd perfected over the years, apathetic to the T.

Everyone was silent for a moment, perhaps trying to recall Kyoya's exact phrasing. Perished?

"What?" Kaoru was the first to ask, looking very shocked indeed.

"Perished? That's a nice word isn't it, Cupcake?" Honey said to the Froufrou-girl on his lap; she looked generously iced with makeup, so Kyoya figured her name could be attributed to that small fact.

"Are you ok?" this was from Haruhi, who Kyoya decided it was best to ignore because, at the moment, he wasn't exactly sure if his father's company was fine, and now that fact seemed to have a heavy influence on the way Kyoya should feel.

"You leave tomorrow? What about our exams?" Tamaki rightly wailed.

"I contacted my professors and took the exams this afternoon," Kyoya began. "And yes, my brothers died this morning, and it's imperative that I return home as soon as possible."

"Kyoya…" Haruhi started, but Kyoya left the room quickly, going straight to his bedroom.

He needed to pack, not everything, just what he couldn't leave behind. For a split second he considered returning to the living room to retrieve Haruhi, she'd easily fit into his largest suit case with room to spare… he knew that was stupid; although it didn't change the fact that he still wanted to. It was kind of scary leaving her behind to be wooed by these dilapidated fools. Then he remembered that they were fools.

Another fact, his brother's had died. It kept coming back to him, that lonely moment in the graveyard, the musty smell of the incense, the tremulous way the smoke curled, the spider. He wondered if there was any way to avoid it. Perhaps if he could avoid the whole funeral, he could skip that part and never have to sort things out with Tamaki, never have to frighten Haruhi.

His eyes unfocused behind his glasses, and he took them off, rubbing his eyes. When he opened them, his glasses in his hands, he could see fine. Perhaps it was too late to stop it; perhaps that part had already happened… The clothes in his top drawer blurred and he put his glasses back on.

He heard his door's hinges rub against each other as his door was slightly opened.

"Kyoya?" a small voice asked from the half-opened doorway.

"What is it Tamaki?" Kyoya drawled.

Tamaki entered the room and shut the door behind him, crossed the small expanse of floor to stand just beside Kyoya, who promptly sat down on the pristinely made bed.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ok," Tamaki said, and sat down beside his friend.

A sudden twinge of guilt pinched behind Kyoya's ribs. For a while now he'd been avoiding most contact with his friend, especially kinds where they'd be alone. He was almost certain Tamaki had even noticed, but regardless, here he sat now, beside him, wondering if he was ok. Tamaki still cared about him and Kyoya wished he wouldn't, but at the same time stood relieved that he did.

"And I wanted you to know, that I'll always be here for you," Tamaki said, wrapping Kyoya's shoulders in a hug. Not even a half-hug. It would've been full-on if they weren't sitting side by side.

This changes everything, Tamaki. Kyoya thought.

So in that moment, he decided he should take advantage of what friendship they had left. His hand came slowly up until he was grasping at his friend's wrist, his head gently falling onto the blond's beside him.

"Thank you… Tamaki." And he meant every word.

Their foreheads pressed together.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Kyoya asked.

"Sure, anything," Tamaki replied.

"Don't dye your hair," Kyoya whispered.

"What?"

"Just don't."

"But what if I start going gray!?" and their little embrace ended.

"Then just not brown," Kyoya amended.

"Alright… but why?"

"I had a dream."

"What kind."

"A very bad one."

The conversation was left at that, because a small commotion was heard from outside in the living room. It was obvious someone had arrived and by Kyoya's calculations, it could only be Mori.

He was right. Just as Kyoya and Tamaki reached the living room, Honey was spilling the news.

…

By the looks of the living room, they'd ordered rather greasy pizza for dinner, and Mori didn't blame them. He hadn't been home to make them anything and grease sounded pretty good right now. He was feeling rather, strange.

The doorbell rang.

He didn't really feel like trying to talk to anyone, not now, with all these thoughts running rampant through his head. So he waited a few minutes, to breathe, before heading for the door, feeling rude for making someone wait. He opened the door and found no one, only a charred looking rose on the welcome mat. It was completely black.

…


	23. Simply Chestnut

"Why do you look so down? So long in the face. You look like a horse, don't worry, you're my favorite horse," Grell said from his lounging position on his bed, there were boxes filled with random junk all over his floor. To Sebastian's keen eyes, it looked like a terrible disaster.

"It seems I'm losing everything at once," Sebastian said, his voice even and laced in apathy.

Grell seemed to lose his joking demeanor in that moment, his eyes watching Sebastian's features closely.

"I would comfort you… But I probably shouldn't," Grell admitted after rising from his bed and throwing some additional belongings into more boxes.

"So you're going to rub in my face that you're leaving soon instead?" Sebastian asked, this time his voice seeming to hold some kind of hurt. It was the first time Grell had ever heard such a tone coming from his dear Bassy. Needless to say, Grell ceased his packing to turn back around to his friend.

"What do you want me to do, Bassy? We weren't going anywhere, you didn't even really care about me, I was just a body to you," there was no hurt in Grell's voice when he said this. "I always knew that and I didn't care… at the time."

"I want you to realize that nothing good is going to come from liking this human."

"Just because you had one bad experience with a smallish imp doesn't mean the same thing will happen with my Kaoru. It won't, because it can't, because I'm not a demon," Grell said, plopping back down on his bed.

"Brat," Sebastian said, but there was a smirk hiding in his lips.

"Dick."

Sebastian smiled to himself and moved away from the doorway, coming just inside the room. He looked down into one of the boxes and nearly cringed. Clothes, a lava lamp and several pairs of scissors were all haphazardly thrown inside.

"Grell," Sebastian said, looking away from the box and up at the red-haired man. "Stay. Please."

It caused the reaper to stop packing his things, but for no more than a moment, soon stuffing more things inside of more boxes.

"I won't. I'm leaving tomorrow." He didn't even look up.

Sebastian stared for a moment longer then left the room. Grell's movement ceased once again as he stared towards the exit his once favorite man left through. Then he sighed and fell back onto his bed.

…

It was the first time here, the light all but gone, except for the two candles on either side of the bed. He couldn't seem to leave his old self behind, and it made me smile to think that, at least, he had finally let me in. Sort of.

Everything about it was pristine, the feel of the soft down comforter and mattress dipping beneath me as he laid me softly down, my pulse quickening. This all seemed somehow different, the tenderness of his touches, the way he seemed to be taking it all in, enjoying me rather than just himself. And I felt different as well. Somehow, smaller. Since when did heat rush to my face like this?

The smell of lavender became thick around us, as he gazed at me, as he moved on the bed beside me, the mattress dipping yet again and I, moving by gravity's bid, slid into his side. My clothed body felt too hot, but it felt so good to be against him. He leaned down toward me and the very air seemed to part for him; he breathed against my cheek, and it took my breath away.

I could feel his hand tangling with my long hair before he ran it back down, behind my ear, along my jaw, leaving me to follow his cue, turn to him so our lips would meet. And there, they met, dark slow moving colors behind my eyelids. Our mouths moved so slowly at first and I couldn't help but notice the way I seemed to be trembling. He must've noticed as well, his arms wrapping strongly around me before pulling my body atop his. Smooth hands ran up under the hem of my shirt, riding it up my back; I knew this drill, and leaned away for a moment to remove it.

Then I realized, just as I pulled my shirt over my head… smooth hands… He wasn't wearing gloves.

"What's that face for?" he asked me, looking up with a small curve on his lips, looking so comfortable beneath me and I continued to be reminded of his gloveless hands as he held my hips.

"Who are you?" I asked, smiling. "Where's Bassy?"

"I told you not to call me that," but he was grinning. Sebastian grinning, I could hardly handle it, so I came back down to him and kissed him.

I felt his hands on my back again before he rolled over, his body draping over mine, the ends of his hair tickling my face. His eyes were all consuming, dark and glowing like the room, trapping me where I was. A smile curled a corner of his elegant lips before I pulled him down to me, my hands in his hair, but they didn't stay there long, I couldn't keep my hands there when his back was tempting me. So I slid my fingers down his spine, beneath the fine fabric of his shirt, and felt the warmth of his heated skin.

As he continued his work on my lips I started undoing his shirt, undoing his buttons one by one until enough were undone to easily pull it over his head, which is exactly what I did. It interrupted the kiss, but only for a moment, then he was crashing back onto me, his breath hot and a little more haggard than it had been a moment ago. I liked it. Everything about his skin touching mine, I liked.

He left my mouth, gasping, and kissed my neck, his tongue a generous press against my skin, goose flesh erupting in the absence of his warm mouth. He kissed down and down, his hands gripping my sides, his trail of kisses leaving me breathless and wanting more. And I knew without a doubt that he'd give it to me, whatever I wanted, I knew in that moment that he would.

He began to work at undoing my pants. Was it my imagination that his fingers trembled slightly? The great Sebastian, reduced to a desire-filled mess by… me.

The button was undone, the zipper unzipped, the pants and all the rest gone and still his kisses didn't stop.

"I lost again," I said.

The kisses stopped. "What?" Sebastian asked, looking truly curious, intent on knowing what I meant.

"I'm always the first to lose my clothes," I whine.

Sebastian shot me a quick smirk before letting out a low chuckle, all in his chest before he descended, trailing his lips down my torso, hugging the point of my hip with his lips before taking me in his mouth. And I closed my eyes, seeing pulsing purple hues on the insides of my eyelids, it was like watching music. The kind of music that you can't help but dance to.

I felt the urge to hold on to something, so my hands found his hair and tangled there, as it bobbed up and down. He hadn't ever done… this. Not for me.

Everything around me had become white-noise. All I could feel was the heat of his body radiating on mine and the wet-warmth of his mouth. I wasn't entirely sure what to do, I didn't know how to respond… so I just let everything come organically, I held back nothing and added no falsities. Every sound produced was all his doing and in conclusion, I presented him with many noises.

His mouth left me after a time I'm unable to determine, it had seemed endless and brief at the same time. The muscles in his shoulders, biceps, and forearms worked, moving leisurely under his skin, as he ascended above me. His eyes looked up towards me, squinted in seduction and seduced I was. I had become completely subdued in his advances and awaited what was next to befall on us.

I can clearly recall the feel of his smooth hands grasping the underside of my knees, to push my legs forward… but everything after that is a blur of too many sinful happenings.

I do remember, after everything had been said and done, that it had been the first time he'd ever allowed me to remain in bed with him, where we could rest in each other's arms. And even though demons and reapers have no need of sleep, we had closed our eyes together and fell into the steady wave of dreams, where our heart-beats and breath matched.

It was the first… and last.

…

Grell opened his eyes and found himself in his bed. Light was streaming in through his doorway, so he looked toward it and found Sebastian standing there, leaning against the doorjamb. When their eyes met, Sebastian stared for only a moment then turned and walked away.

Grell was left alone, and the dream of the past crept to the front of his mind; no matter how he tried to banish it, pasts don't easily disappear.

…

He'd just arrived home, had just enough time to set down his suitcase when he heard the slap of feet on marble and looked up to see a flash of Fuyumi before she collided with his front. He hadn't expected a warm welcome, in fact, he'd expected no welcome whatsoever, but a warm welcome is what he got. A warm wet one, warm with Fuyumi's constricting embrace, and wet because of the abundance of tears she seemed intent on shedding. He'd missed this, before he went to America, before Fuyumi had gotten married, when she'd welcome him home each day, when he felt like there was someone who actually cared if he'd come home at all.

"I'm so glad you're here," she spoke into his shirt; he didn't remember her being this short.

"Do you know what the 'accident' was?" Kyoya asked.

Fuyumi promptly burst into sobs, no longer just leaking from her eyes.

"You don't want to talk about it. Well, I won't force you, you know that," he continued to say useless things as he guided his sister to her room, down that long hall, to the only open door, and set her on her bed.

"Oh Kyoya, I just – it's just – Father won't leave the office and mother won't leave her room… Kyoya, we're falling apart," she grasped desperately at his shirt sleeves and he kneeled down in front of her, brushing her unkempt hair from her tear-stained face. He wondered for a moment if she really thought they were a part of each other at all, everyone in their family, a unit; he never thought that way.

"Everything will be fine," he said because it would be fine for her, just not for him. It felt like the world he'd created was slipping away from him.

After he'd reassured her as best he could and she'd cried herself into a stupor, or possibly sleep, he left the room, retrieved his suitcase and headed for his own room in this impractically large house. He'd grown to hate large houses when so few people occupied them. He felt lonely enough as it was, and the extra space suffocated him in emotions he'd rather not deal with. He'd found over this last semester that he preferred the cramped space of the shared apartment, a friend just across the hall, in the kitchen, on the best couch, occupying the bathroom for an obscene amount of time. Living so close to everyone had made him happier, but he still wondered what it would be like had he been able to share, not only his home, but room and... his bed with another as well. The only problem was that he seemed to not know who the 'other' should be.

He flopped back on his bed, removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt a bit, and sighing. He wanted to go back. Back before all these confusing things started happening, before he'd made a deal with that boy, a deal he couldn't even remember. What was the purpose of a deal if you couldn't even recall the agenda? It was frustrating and Kyoya hated being frustrated, he hated not knowing things when there was no way to retrieve the answer… or was there?

He sat up, his eyes looking about the room as if he expected to find something out of the norm… Well, someone had changed the carpet, but that's not what he was after.

"… How the hell am I supposed to find this kid?" He asked himself, his voice sounding louder than normal with the isolation his room provided.

Suddenly his eyes noticed something that he hadn't perceived when he'd first entered the room. It was something that he'd never spotted in his house even once, not in this one. There was a spider resting in its web, poised in way spiders often are, not thinking of anything and yet seeming so prepared. He looked away in confusion, his eyebrows scrunched together before turning his sight back to the corner he'd spotted the eight-legged arachnid, but this time, he couldn't make out any details, because his glasses turned his vision blurry. His hand came up, removing the frames to reveal that the corner was empty, clear of any pest that might have once been there and clear of any web, as if what he'd seen had never been there at all. It sparked within him a chord that singed through his blood, alighting to his mind something akin to realization. He looked down at his left hand, where the spider of his so called 'desire' had bitten him. There was no mark… at least, not of a spider bite. A shape of some kind glowed lightly beneath his skin, something so slight it was almost impossible to make out.

"By this… we're forever bound." He could hear a voice speaking in his head like a memory.

He wanted the voice that spoke in his head to continue, but he wasn't sure how he had heard it in the first place, or if it was really a 'voice' and not just himself.

"Really, it shouldn't be that difficult, when you want someone to come you have to call out to them," A voice spoke from behind him.

Kyoya jerked his head around to the unannounced intruder. It was a boy with jet black hair, all black clothes, a devilish grin, and glowing red, cat eyes.

…

He wasn't necessarily doing it to annoy Kyoya, after all, it wasn't brown. He'd chosen chestnut – arguably a shade of brown, but there was no brown in the name, he'd made sure of that. There was chestnut brown, and then there was simply chestnut. He was currently sitting in the posh and only salon that carried this simply chestnut color, in one of the pristine chairs, with a hairdresser man – who was an obvious homo – behind him, messing about with his still gold tresses.

"Are you sure you want me to dye this brown?" The stylist asked skeptically, he seemed rather transfixed with the beautiful mop of hair in front of him and between his fingers.

"Chestnut!" Tamaki squealed like a wallowing pig.

The homo-man sighed before reaching for his dying tools, beginning to mix together an assortment of various chemicals, as homo-men about to dye hair often do. And for a moment Tamaki caught himself thinking idly of that one witch in Majora's Mask, the one that owned that little potion shop, and suddenly his opinion of the potion mixing homo became a lot better. He smiled.

"Are you really that excited to get your hair dyed?" The homo-man asked with an equally pleased smile as he pulled plastic gloves over his manicured hands. He was a nice homo-man and now that Tamaki viewed him as a howling witch he seemed that much better.

"I am, by you at least." Tamaki replied in complete naivety.

The homo-man paused in putting the glob of chemicals on Tamaki's hair – because really, the writers don't know how to dye hair, unless it's Kool-Aid related – and smiled at Tamaki's implied statement. So, as the homo-man continued his ministrations, some magic happened, involving globs of chemicals adhering to Tamaki's hair in such a way that it turned it a lovely chestnut color.

It looked a lot more brown than Tamaki had anticipated.

"Hmm," Tamaki exhaled as he inspected his new image.

"Wow… it makes you look a lot manlier."

"Would you like to go shopping with me? What did you say your name was again?" Tamaki asked.

The homo-man smiled, a small grin, "Josef."

With knowing the man's name, Tamaki finally decided to study his appearance more closely. Tamaki was one of those Asian men –well, Japanese/French men- who thought all Americans looked the same, or if not the same, too closely related to have mentally healthy children, so he had to take extra measures if he wanted to keep a name to a face. This man might prove to be easier to remember however, there was just something about him that set him apart from the rest of the world. For one, his hair was the brightest, swishiest purple he'd ever seen, perhaps even more so than Tamaki's eyes (modeling danglifier!). He also noticed that the man was wearing… chestnut circle lenses, more red than brown really. Josef was also quite tall, even more so than Tamaki and seeing how Tamaki was 6'2" it seemed a rather significant detail.

"Is that natural?" Tamaki asked, referring to the lanky man's hair.

Josef blinked down at him, a humorous grin running across his tan face. "Oh, yes, of course," he replied, his voice not hinting at any sarcasm that Tamaki could pick up. "So, what kind of clothes were you thinking of?" Josef asked, his voice interested.

Tamaki gave the strange man a once over, "You're clothes look nice, just show me what you normally buy." For a gay man, Josef's clothes were more manly and rocker-esque. Actually it's a wonder Tamaki was able to tell the man was gay at all, somehow it had just been obvious to Tamaki… despite the apparel. Maybe the eyeliner around the man's eyes caused Tamaki to jump to conclusions… right they may have been.

"I'd love to. I'll cancel my appointments," Josef walked off with a smile on his nice lips. "Oz!" he called as he disappeared around a corner.

Oz? The wizard? What a peculiar yet pleasing name, Tamaki thought to himself as he continued to marvel at the natural way Josef had styled his hair. Instead of giving Tamaki a completely new do, he'd followed the regular way of things; it was longer than he'd had it in high school and perhaps, due to that fact, a bit wavier as well.

"Alright, it's all taken care of, let's go!" Josef came back, throwing his apron over the chair Tamaki had sat in only moments before.

Tamaki smiled before following the unique man out the door. Perhaps he wouldn't be so hard to remember.

…

"What are you, a genie? This isn't a Disney movie," Kyoya said, he wasn't sure anymore why he had wanted to speak to this voice. The voice that turned out to be a strange boy.

"Of course not, I'm a demon, and you'll be one soon too," the boy said, he wasn't a very expressive creature, and his cat-like eyes attested to his extreme apathy.

"What do you mean?" Kyoya asked, trying to keep his features passive, not wanting to let this boy see how much this explanation ate at him, gnawing on his mental reserve.

"What I mean is," the boy began. "You want the world, Kyoya, and I'm giving you an inexorable amount of time to attain it."

"But… a demon? What kind of nonsense is this?" and Kyoya took a really big exasperated breath. "Who paid you?"

The young man let out a small breath of amused air as he situated himself in a chair next to Kyoya's old desk, flinging one lanky leg over the other.

"You can't pay off a demon… with money," the boy answered, a toothy smile (clickety flingus – Monkey making up words) breaking the line of his thin lips.

Kyoya sat down on his bed, jet lag and the past few days of little sleep (gooble-gooble-gungus) finally seemed to be taking its toll on him; he felt his mind spinning, trying to logically analyze this new information. But there was no logic in it at all, none of it made any sense.

"I see, you still can't remember our bargain," the boy said, the curve of his smile gone. "Perhaps it's better that way."

"Why? So you won't have to follow through?" Kyoya asked with a type of bite to his voice he wasn't accustomed to hearing come from his own mouth.

"I never go back on my word… you've already begun to receive it, you'll get your reward whether you realize it or not… whether you still want it or otherwise." The demon explained as he rose from the chair he had sat himself in only moments before, he seemed to be having trouble staying still, but Kyoya couldn't decipher the origin of the boy's restive actions.

"I want to know the nature of our bargain, what was I to do in return for what?" Kyoya asked, still seated on his bed, he had no wish of allowing this boy to see the anxiety taking root within him.

Ciel seemed to study each of Kyoya's features, but not in confusion, it was like he was reading text, cut and dry, to the point, everything Kyoya was trying to hide, was displayed openly.

Then a noise was heard from his pocket. He instantly discerned that the sound belonged to his phone. As he took the device from his pocket, he checked the caller ID. It was Haruhi. His gaze jumped up from his momentary distraction back to the boy… but the boy was no longer present. Kyoya's head turned this way and that, trying to figure out where the figure had disappeared to. He found nothing.

The phone continued to ring in his hand. He finally answered it.

"Hello?" He asked, his eyes still shifting throughout the expanse of his large room.

"Kyoya? It's me, Haruhi," spoke the low voice on the other end.

"I'm aware, what is it you needed?"

"Oh, yeah, right… I needed something? I…" There was a lengthy pause in which Kyoya found himself wondering if he should say something, but decided against it. "I just wanted to make sure you made it alright," Haruhi finally said.

"Well, I did. I made it," Kyoya said.

"And… I just wanted to make sure you're ok," Haruhi continued.

"Haruhi," Kyoya started, pausing momentarily to sit on his bed. "Do I sound like I'm falling apart?"

"Not really," Haruhi said.

Kyoya grinned. "Are you alight, Haruhi?"

"Wha… Why wouldn't I be?"

"You have exams soon don't you? Shouldn't you be studying, and not worrying about me?" he could hardly keep from sounding amused.

"Oh, I was doing that. But I kept getting stuck in the paragraphs…" she took a deep breath. "I wasn't really worrying. No. No, I was," she sighed, exasperated.

"Well, stop worrying, I'm nothing to worry about," Kyoya said.

"Ok, I'll call you later," and she hung up.

She'd call him later? What was that supposed to mean?

Kyoya tossed his phone on the floor and flopped back onto his bed. There was no way to stop this strange thing from happening, that's what he knew now. And there was no way, that he could see, for him to win this stupid girl that he so wanted.

…

This tall homo-man was proving to be quite interesting, even more interesting than he'd already been translated as. He seemed to know all the right stores to go to, not to mention that he apparently knew all the employees that worked at the shops… and he got employee discounts?

"Josef, do you work at all these places?" Tamaki asked amazed. Never did he know a commoner to need as many jobs as this, not even Haruhi. This Josef character surely had to be low as dirt… perhaps he supported his widowed mother and six little siblings! All the debt and payments left to him to take care of! The poor man, Tamaki thought, without a father or anyone to take care of him! And yet he was so kind. He'd colored and cut Tamaki's hair to perfection and now was even showing him where to get the hippest American apparel. Tamaki decided he'd have to award the homo handsomely, with enough money to last his widowed mother and siblings a lifetime along with a yacht. Everyone needed one of those.

"Sometimes," Josef replied simply, grabbing more clothes that would soon be forced upon Tamaki to try on. The blond-now-'chestnut'-haired man finally understood why shopping was rumored to burn so many calories. "Should we go to the underwear store next?" Josef asked, pausing for a moment, flashing Tamaki a quick smirk before heading towards the dressing rooms.

So Tamaki dutifully followed the homo to the dressing room.

Everything fit like a glove. Even the gloves fit precisely like… gloves. He admired himself in the mirror, and for once he wasn't worried about suddenly transforming into a tranny, since the twins weren't responsible for his wardrobe. He looked almost… manly; and in the most rockstarish way imaginable.

"It'd be nice if you'd let me see," Josef asked from the other side of the dressing-room door where he had been waiting in anticipation for the moment Tamaki would display the immaculate selection of clothes that he, Josef, had decided upon.

"Oh, but of course," Tamaki responded. He had been too absorbed in his dismal thoughts of the other man to think about showing off his new style. He wasn't against showing Josef at all, he loved to be admired.

He took another look at himself in the mirror, ran his hand through his tresses then opened the door. Josef stood just outside, his arms crossed as he leaned against a pillar, his slouching form making him seem shorter and yet no less lanky. Tamaki took great pride in his strut towards the attractive fag. Josef's smirk gave him confidence.

"Nice, you might wear my style better than I do," Josef commented as he stood straight once again, adding several inches to his height, once again.

"I don't doubt it; I'm the king after all!" Tamaki declared, as he threw his arms this way, his eyes closed.

"At least you're honest…"

And right then the faggot's phone decided to ring. Tamaki glanced down at Josef's pant pocket, then looked back up and found Josef smirking evilly at him.

"Like what you see?" Josef smiled and then answered his phone.

Tamaki didn't understand the question.

"Hey Ozzy," Josef said, his voice all too endearing. "Still shopping… some hot brunette… you jealous? You know I only have eyes for you…. I can still think someone's hot and only want to-, ok, ok… So, but, you closed? Were you really that bored without me? … So coffee, ok. Yeah, I'll bring the brunette along, no problem… mkay-love-you-bye," he hung up before shooting a tight-lipped smile back at Tamaki.

"… Is he your lover?" Tamaki asked.

There was a momentary spasm of Josef's lips in attempt at keeping himself from laughing, luckily Tamaki didn't notice.

"Oh yes. We're very much in love. He loves me even more than I love him!" Josef declared avariciously.

"Is he… Gay?"

Josef liked to pride himself with being an impeccable actor, but even he was having trouble not breaking out in a fit of the giggles with Tamaki's stupidity.

"Not really."

"Wow… His love must know no bounds!"

Josef's smile broadened. "You could say that."

…

"It's a contract, between you and me…"

His smile had been nearly intoxicating, and he wasn't sure why until he took that moment to think it over. Sebastian was anything but normal, and now Mori knew exactly what he was. Black as ink, red as blood, smelling of warm tea and vanilla candles and ash, a raw and hungry monster looking for a new victim; Sebastian was a demon.

"What will you do if I refuse?" Mori had asked, and Sebastian's smile hadn't faded.

"Continue searching for a suitable soul, I suppose," he had replied.

He was glad he knew. The pale man was no longer such a mystery, and knowing what he was dealing with somehow made Mori feel a little more competent, a little less helpless.

"Are my friends on your list of candidates?"

"Not right now," he'd said, with that knowing smile.

"Will you let me know if they are?"

That smile. Knowing, confident, more smirk than smile.

And now, thinking of it again, sitting in this little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop pretending to study, he put his face in his hands and breathed. The world just kept getting stranger. Granted, the world became a strange place the moment he and Honey had joined the host club, but this… it felt like the end of the world he had known and the beginning of something else. Something a little terrible, a little frightening, less real and more dangerous. If there were demons, what else was there?

Then, of course, his thoughts wandered onto the subject of Haruhi, as his thoughts often did nowadays. He took a measured sip of his cappuccino and considered, again, telling her what he'd found out, just so she'd know. He set his little cup back in its saucer and banished the thought again; Haruhi was too logical to believe in things like demons parading as humans. It was probably more dangerous to tell her than it was to keep silent, since she might confront Sebastian herself… Mori knew she had the number of that Undies guy, and that guy was one of Sebastian's friends.

He'd just have to keep this to himself until he thought of something… better.

…

The truth was she had been coming here since the first incident involving a terrible masterpiece of a bouquet, and since then she suspected that he made them merely to annoy her. What a terrible friend he was, but no less entertaining. And he was never lacking in sweet comestibles…

She glanced at the small sign and smiled to herself, Open to ungodly hours. He was really stupid. But that was probably part of his strange charm, so she walked through the door and heard the automated sound of a doorbell's ding-dong rather than the usual clanking of the little bell. Something must've happened to it.

"What happened to your bell?" Haruhi asked in greeting.

"That princely buffoon happened to it!" Undies said as he appeared behind his table which had, at some point, acquired a nice little plaque that read: Assembling Table, with very strange S's. "Hello, by the way," Undies smiled his strange smile and just like that he was holding a plate of sugary edibles. "And I assume you're here to spank me since I sold that awful person another bouquet. The most sparkly one yet! I was cringing while I made it, nearly died from inhaling the sparkly stuff, smelt terrible!"

"Why were you inhaling the sparkles?" Haruhi asked as she followed him to the back room, which doubled as Undies' house.

"Because they stop my breathing!"

"I forgot that you don't make sense…"

"Come! Let's eat these fine treats, and drink the frothy abomination that you like!" Undies exclaimed in enthusiasm as he traipsed towards the door, flipping the little sign that would declare to the world that: you'll have to go elsewhere! If flowers is what you were after.

"Did you make the cookies?"

"But of course! I even put in extra salt!"

Haruhi blinked at him. She often wondered what possessed her to hang out with the strange man, but it should have been clear. She didn't think of her hectic life when around him, not the assignments, not the stressful pursuit of Tamaki and his unrequited feelings. The troublesome existence of being a heartbreaker. Somehow she believed she could never break the flower-man's chest cavity, or the heart within it. She might have even believed he didn't have one, or rather, a heart within it, although she never fully understood why.

Anyway, so he turned the damn sign and they waltzed out the door to go across the street to the little hole-in-the-wall café. Once there, Haruhi ordered her weekly dose of overly-frothed cappuccino and Undies ordered a strange herbal tea that smelt oddly of dirt when Haruhi managed to catch a whiff of its steam.

They were about to sit down, but Haruhi noticed a sad looking shadowy figure lurking at a corner table over yonder. It was Mori, and he appeared to be growing mushrooms, a whole bunch of them.

Haruhi began directing her silver-haired friend to the corner table in which her giant-friend sat. They made it to the table and for a moment Haruhi wished she hadn't led them over here in the first place; Mori looked absolutely horrible.

"Oh my, you look like you've been offered a contract," Undies cackled, though his voice did sound strangely menacing.

Just as Mori looked up at them, the bells above the café's door jingled. All three pairs of eyes moved towards the door as if drawn to it. In came three tall, handsome figures, one for each of them… in a manner of speaking, if, you know, two of each group were homos.

Haruhi's jaw dropped when she identified the figure in the middle, Mori's eyes widened. In came a ravishing brunette (chestnut-haired) rockstar, complete with Chuck Taylors and fingerless-leather-gloves.

"Senpai?"

"Tamaki?"

"Who are your friends?" The undertaker finished… But he only seemed to be looking at one of them. The purple-haired one, the obvious homo. As he looked upon him, something seemed to light in his yellow-green eyes, something sinister and sad.

Between these six people, many secrets hid.


	24. Disappointment

Tamaki stared for a long moment, at his darling Haruhi and the two men on either side of her. Mori, seated to her left, and that blasted flower-shop owner standing to her right; although he didn't hate the flower-man completely you see, because he always did make Tamaki beautiful bouquets. The groups of three stared at each other for a while, Oz and Josef seeming rather perplexed with what exactly was happening… Why were these three other people so interested in them?

Then those two simply brushed it off, they knew they were handsome ruffians.

"Haruhi! You're cavorting with, not just one, but several men! At once! Why wasn't I invited!?" Tamaki rightly squealed.

"What? No, I'm not," Haruhi said, though anyone could tell she was still quite confused with what exactly was going on.

"DON'T YOU LIE TO ME!" and Tamaki was across the small expanse of room in no time, taking Haruhi by the hand and pulling her away from those two nasty men.

"Oh come now, Prince Buffoon, this is my day with the smallish female there. You can have her any other day, but today I must refuse!" and with a flourish of his longish fingers, Undies grasped Haruhi by her wrist and pulled her toward himself.

"UNHAND HER YOU NASTY FIEND!" Tamaki bellowed, while pulling her back.

"Hand her over, you stupid, spineless, sad excuse for a bimbo!" Undies also bellowed, though with a little more cackle sprinkled in there, and pulled Haruhi toward himself once again. Haruhi didn't do much to alter her current situation, she knew eventually that she'd either break or they'd stop, both resulting in her freedom, or something close to that.

Fortunately for Haruhi though, she didn't need to wait for either of those outcomes to come to pass, because Mori wasn't about to watch her get pulled apart. The big man stood from his chair, the mushrooms he had previously been growing fell from his large shoulders and were happily no more. He turned to the tug-of-war going on just beside his table and lifted Haruhi from the monsters' grasps to safety, his arms were probably the safest place for her, at least that's what he thought.

Tamaki and Undies' gazes shifted to the big man that now held their prize in his oversized mitts, but not for long, because suddenly an "ahem" was heard from beside them. All eyes turned to the tall white-folk who seemed rather confused with all the happenings.

"Who are your friends?" Mori asked as he sat the small woman down.

Tamaki righted himself. "Oh these?"

Oz, the taller of the two, perhaps even taller than Mori, smiled. It was a smile no one could easily forget. "I'm Oz," he spoke easily as he presented his hand out to whoever would take it. His emerald-green eyes focused on Haruhi, so she stepped up to his offer.

"Haruhi, and this is Mori and…" she glanced at the Undertaker, not sure how to introduce him. Luckily she didn't need to, because he stepped in, his enthusiasm seeming rather suspicious.

"Call me… Tarzan!" He screeched excitedly as he grabbed Oz's hand and gave it a good shake.

Oz continued his winning smile while Josef stood beside him, silently smirking.

Everyone already acquainted with Undies stared incredulously.

"I'm Josef," Josef introduced himself next as Oz shook Mori's hand.

Mori looked a bit uneasy. He didn't often come across people taller than him and this Oz character… he wasn't so sure about him.

Josef shook everyone's hand as well, he was shorter than Mori, but not by much. (They've all been introduced! WONDERFUK!)

"Tamaki… you look different, I can't put my finger on it but…" Haruhi contemplated.

"Here," Tamaki said, somewhat annoyed, and grabbed her hand. "Let me help you," and he bent down and placed her hand on his head.

"Oh," Haruhi said. "You dyed your hair… but why brown?"

"Oh! What a lovely mop of mud!" Undies-now-Tarzan said with much fervor.

"It's CHESTNUT!" Tamaki yelled, standing up straight once again.

"You're really intent on people believing that aren't you?" Josef asked, inspecting his immaculate nails with much interest.

"Shall we move to a larger table?" Someone suggested. So they did.

Everyone sat, their drinks that they had bought in front of them on the metal-top table. They all sipped their caffeinated beverages in silence, that is, until the new additions to the group grew tired of the awkwardness.

"So, you're all friends, aren't you?" Oz asked, setting his cup-of-jo down on the little saucer he'd been given.

Everyone eyed each other before nodding once, twice.

"So what gives, did you all have a fight or something? Because this sort of atmosphere isn't what should accompany 'friends'," Oz explained; he was the type one might often refer to as a peace-maker. Although, that completely depended on the people, because if he wanted, he was very skilled at turning everyone against each other if he so wished.

"Of course we're friends! Well…" Tamaki began. "We're supposed to be anyway, but those two don't really matter, because, you see, I'm the main character and Haruhi is my love interest."

Oz nodded sagely, several times. "Ok, so I think I see the problem," He began before shooting his eyes directly in Tamaki's direction. "You're way too self-centered and your lack of consideration towards the rest of your friends is tearing you all apart." And that was that.

Tamaki blinked disbelievingly, several times.

"Actually," Tarzan interjected, raising a black-nailed finger toward the heavens. "He's not the main character, he's more like me, the comic relief. And Haruhi happens to be the love interest of everyone in this story – except Kaoru, who has sadly fallen off the wagon and is getting run over by a very smitten little red kitten!"

Josef and Oz stared at the strange, white-haired weirdo.

"… Are you dating anyone?" Josef asked, setting his elbows on the table and leaning towards the black-clad man.

Oz made a fist and promptly gave Josef's purple head one good pound.

Meanwhile, Tamaki gasped. "Josef! What about your eternal love for that Oz person?!"

"Oz hates me…" Josef moaned.

"Wait… are you guys a thing or?" someone asked.

Oz blinked, Josef smirked.

"Josef works for me. I don't like him."

"Oh cooome on… me," Josef's smirk was pretty much fixed in place. It wasn't going anywhere. Nowhere. No matter how hard Oz decided to pound him, it was gonna stay.

"But Oz, his love for you is eternal!" Tamaki wailed. In all honesty, he'd never cared about gay anything, but he really liked Josef, mainly just the fact that he had natural purple hair that happened to be the same color as Tamaki's eyes… but still, he wanted Josef and Oz to be a thing… also so they wouldn't hit on Haruhi.

"And why would I care about that?" Oz smiled pleasantly.

Tamaki gaped, and nobody had noticed until that moment just how huge his mouth really was. It was really big.

"Josef… I don't think he loves you," Tamaki said regrettably.

"He's just in denial. He wants to be straight or something," Josef replied while inspecting his black-painted nails. They were spectacularly black.

"I'm just a little black raincloud, hovering under the honey-tree. I'm just a little black raincloud, pay no attention to me…" Tarzan sang in his pleasing baritone.

While Tarzan was performing for the three attractively unwelcome males, Haruhi used the momentary lull in their attention to take a seat closer to Mori and take a generous sip of her frothy-scrumptious cappuccino. She sighed contentedly and looked to her dark-eyed friend sitting next to her. There was a sad droop to his eyes when he finally deemed to look back at her, making her unable to resist the urge to reach out a tentative hand and grip his wrist, giving it a slight squeeze.

She watched his face, his eyes on her hand. Then she felt his fingers on her knuckles, warm and comforting. It lasted only a moment though; he pulled away, taking his nearly empty mug in his big hands, and didn't meet her eyes again.

Haruhi glanced back up at the four guys, and found the purple-haired one whispering to the tall black-haired beauty who happened to be hiding a devious grin behind a deliberately placed hand. She felt the color in her cheeks deepen with warmth.

"Wait so, your name is Tamaki, correct?" Oz asked, his voice ever so polite as he interrupted the still-singing Tarzan.

"Call me king!" Tamaki cried happily.

"No. So Tamaki, you said Haruhi was your love interest right?" There was mischief lighting his entire face in the most feline manner.

"Yes, she is!"

Oz stole a glance at Mori.

"Interesting…" Oz murmured, a sly smile stretching his lips as he looked into the cup of his hot drink and took a sip.

…

It had been a long day. Hikaru hadn't seen anyone the entirety of it, he wasn't even able to walk with Haruhi to get her something to eat. He'd actually gone to class for a change… and had gotten quite a talking to from his studio professors. He wasn't really listening though, so he didn't really care. Ever since he left the campus, he couldn't wait to finally see Kaoru, to just sit and talk. Maybe they could go out for dinner or tea. It had been a while, a long while, since he'd actually gone somewhere just to be with his twin. He wanted to fix what had been broken between them and really, he just missed him. He would need to find a better way of giving attention to both of his favorite people.

He walked through the door of the large apartment, the silence of an empty home reaching his ears. Was no one there? He looked down at his watch to check the time. He wasn't sure about anyone else, but he knew Haruhi wouldn't be back for a few hours and Kaoru should have gotten back not too long ago… Assuming he wasn't with his boyfriend, but he'd recently gotten into the habit of texting Hikaru before he went out. That's when he heard the sound of a shower-head spewing its cleansing contents.

He smiled as he walked into his shared bedroom, steam seeping under the bathroom door. He was just glad that Kaoru was still home.

He saw something light up from the corner of his vision. He turned his head so see that someone was calling Kaoru's phone. It made Hikaru suddenly curious if it was Kaoru's significant other, because he just now realized that he had no idea what this other man's name was. He'd have to meet him sometime. He knew he shouldn't answer the phone but… he could look at who it was from at least.

The carpet cushioned and silenced his steps before he was leaning over the queen-sized bed and peering at the contact name. The '3' confirmed the relationship the caller had with Hikaru's brother, but the name is what threw him off.

'Little Red RIDING Hood 3'

"Who the hell is that?" Hikaru whispered to himself. He picked up the phone and swiped his finger across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?" Hikaru asked in his most Kaoru-esque voice. It was pretty convincing.

"Hello my little Fire-Cracker! How's it crackin'? Hmhmhm! Shall I treat you tonight? Just kidding, you don't have an option, I'm treating tonight!"

Hikaru didn't respond, mainly due to the fact that the bottom part of his mouth was probably going to fall off… Kaoru was dating this crazy? Hikaru had never shared Kaoru's enthusiasm of his favorite band The Butler, but he hadn't minded his obsession; this however… this was too much. They both knew now that that band was made up of weirdos, and now he was dating the weirdest of them all? This was ridiculous.

"You're damned if you think you're getting my brother!" Hikaru burst.

"What?" Grell asked, befuddled. "I don't want Hikaru…"

"Hikaru? Who were you yelling at?" Kaoru called from the bathroom.

"…I only want you!" Grell howled on the other line.

Kaoru stood in the doorway, confused, a towel wrapped around his hips.

"Kaoru's busy tonight," Hikaru finished, looking his brother dead in the eye, then hung up the phone.

"… Is that my phone?" Kaoru asked as he eyed the phone still resting in Hikaru's hand. Kaoru's eyes grew steadily wider. "What did you just do?"

"Explain to me why you're dating that raving lunatic, are you stupid!?" Hikaru yelled and advanced on his twin. He tossed the phone aside, not caring if he broke it, and pushed the bathroom door all the way open.

Kaoru flinched at his brother's actions, taking a step back onto the tiled flood behind him.

"What's up with you? You've been a real dick recently," Kaoru said before glaring back at his twin, shoving past him.

"You're talking to me about this!"

"There's nothing to talk about, I can date whoever the hell I want," Kaoru said, his voice matter-of-fact.

"How can I let you date someone like that? This isn't smart, Kaoru."

"Why isn't it smart?"

"All he wants is your body, you idiot!"

"Well I don't think that's all he wants; he's more than you think he is. You're judging him by his past," Kaoru said, searching for clothes. "He's changed."

"Is that what he told you? You've just been seduced by the fact that he's a part of your favorite band."

Kaoru turned back to his brother, anger evident in his fiery eyes. "You think I'd just take any of them?"

"Maybe."

"How shallow do you think I am?"

"Come on Kaoru, you never thought you were gay until this wacko started showing interest in you."

"Now you're questioning... me? Are you upset because I'm actually getting what I want, while you're still drooling over Haruhi? You're. Never. Getting her, Hikaru."

"What the hell-"

"Just accept it already and move on! And while you're at it, you should try to accept me too!"

"That's not even what this is about! He's just gonna fuck you'n leave you Kaoru, that's all he wants! And don't come crying to me when it happens!"

"Is that all you think I'm good for?" Kaoru's voice had gotten notably softer.

Hikaru was breathing hard, standing tense before his brother, who was still only half dressed. They stared at each other for a moment, then Kaoru turned around and resumed getting dressed.

"Kaoru…" Hikaru began to say as he neared closer to his twin. "You know I didn't mean it like that, I just don't trust that-"

"Do you trust me?" Kaoru asked, whipping around to face his brother, he was only lacking a shirt.

"You know I do."

"Then just let it go and let me do what I want. I like him Hikaru," Kaoru said as he pulled a shirt on over his head, and began searching for a pair of socks.

Hikaru turned, running a hand through his hair, breathing out in exasperation, and left the room, slamming the door behind him. He didn't know why, but he felt that itch in his fingers; so he slipped on a pair of shoes and headed out the front door. He hadn't felt like working in the studios in far too long.

…

He'd waited as long as he could, which for him, was longer than he would normally wait for information, considering he did have his own sources who would be more than happy to acquire the information for him. But, for some reason, after his sister had been in too much of a sad state to tell him, he felt it was only right to hear it from no one else but his father. So he'd waited until the wake, where he and his father would be forced into the same room.

They stood next to each other, inclining their heads to the guests that entered. A lull in the swarm of office people made for as good an opening as he'd have.

"How'd they die?" Kyoya asked flatly.

"You have yet to inquire? I expect more of you, Kyoya," his father said, his voice just as flat.

Kyoya didn't reply, only nodded to a few more guests and waited.

"They died in their sleep, supposedly of natural causes, on April 13th," his father said, and deemed now to look at his only living son.

"And you think I had something to do with it?"

"You were always a jealous child." His father sighed then nodded at the couple who entered. "It's unfortunate that neither of your brothers had sons."

Kyoya glanced over at his father, who looked as stoic as ever. "Yes, very," he finally conceded. "Excuse me."

He knew it would not be seen as proper to leave, but he did anyway. He felt he couldn't stay. Something was boiling beneath his skin, he could feel it coursing like fire: anger. Kyoya often prided himself, in private, on being level-headed and having a relatively cool demeanor. But he wasn't perfect, no matter how hard he strove to be. He could never be anything his father wanted or cared about, no matter how hard he tried.

Kyoya couldn't help but feel the weather was far too fitting for such a day as this. The sky was overcast with a thick blanket of eerily colored clouds, the trees still skeletal from winter waved their barely budding leaves with every sudden gust of cool wind. Kyoya didn't like this kind of weather, but he liked it more than being in a room filled with people he knew but didn't really know; he wasn't close with a single person in that building, dead or alive.

There was no one in the park across from the funeral home. It was a pretty sad excuse for a park though. A plain of dead grass and two swings on a single swing set. There were also benches, which Kyoya took as his place of rest. He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets as a sudden wind brushed its chilly fingers through Kyoya's hair. He had been looking at his dress shoes, but he couldn't help but feel he was being watched. He looked up, towards the swing set, and he had been very much correct. In one of the swings sat the boy, his so-called demon friend.

"Hello, again. We had been so rudely interrupted before, so I decided now would be as good a time as any, seeing as how you're no longer occupied with your 'family'," the adolescent intoned with sarcasm imbued into the words.

When Kyoya didn't reply, and looked away, the boy raised an indignant eyebrow (though Kyoya didn't see it, of course).

"I know you're curious as to what I never got to say," the boy said. "I also know that the writers' six fans are also curious, so even if you no longer want to know what the contract between us was… I'm obligated to say it anyway…"

Kyoya turned to the boy and glared.

"So," the boy began. "You're turning into a demon, because, unfortunately for you, I had no real interest in making an actual contract with someone whose soul was already blacker than mine. Because you see, typically demons only make contracts with those who remain pure despite the unfortunate circumstances in which they live."

"I don't need this kind of explanation, just tell me, if I was unable to measure up to your standards, then why did you create a damn 'contract' with me to begin with?" Kyoya said, his anger barely hidden beneath his crisp words.

Ciel allowed one corner of his mouth to turn up in slight amusement. "I needed a venue to confine my wayward friend in. In return for your compliance, I assured you that I would remove one of your own dear friends from a certain unfortunate list… and get you enough time to achieve your dreams," the boy looked rather somber after this litany.

"I'm not sure I completely understand…" Kyoya said.

"She wasn't the only one on the list, and with the way your future was playing out in that desire of yours… you weren't headed for a happy ending either," the boy's eyes flashed a deep burgundy. "This way, you have all the time in the world. You should thank me," though he didn't sound serious about the last bit.

Kyoya's eyes went wide as he began to understand. He got, quickly, to his feet, his hands clenching into fists.

"Haruhi? List? What kind of list are you talking about?"

The boy watched him closely, his face betraying nothing. "To die… but not anymore… I mean, if you can prevent it." He smirked.

"How?"

"You'll have to figure that one out on your own. Our contract has been signed and will soon come to a close… All in due time."

Kyoya's face showed every ounce of anger he felt in that moment, his teeth bared… and suddenly, his eyes blurred out of focus.

"You're so close."

…

Somehow, the strange company of the six in the coffee shop still resided in… the coffee shop… But, of course, they had gone through quite a few coffees and were all in danger, health-wise, because of their abundant caffeine intake.

Mori kept stealing glances at Torzon, who he couldn't help but feel uneasy about sitting so closely to Haruhi.

"Oh my, you look like you've been offered a contract," the cackle-ridden statement kept repeating in his head. "Oh my, you look like you've been offered a contract… Ohmy,youlooklikeyou'vebeenoffered A CONTRACT. Ohmy,youlooklikeyou'vebeenofferedacontract."

He couldn't stop it. The strange man who was currently sneaking his arm around Haruhi, that Terzen, knew about the contract. Which meant he knew what the Sebastian character was, and that probably meant he was also some sort of questionable being… Though Mori doubted he was a demon, he seemed rather too loose in the head to be very conniving. Not quite calculating enough.

Mori felt slightly more at ease as he witnessed Haruhi push Turzun's arm away, but still… what was that ditzy flower-shop owner planning?

"What about you?" the voice of the purple haired man broke Mori's thoughts. "You haven't said a word since this conversation started, what do you have to contribute?"

"I should leave," was all Mori decided to say before standing. "Haruhi, would you come with me?" He asked, looking down at where the small brunette sat.

"She most certainly will not! I'll escort her home!" Tamaki bellowed.

"Sure, I'll come with you Mori."

"Good."

And as they walked out the door, Tamaki began to disintegrate. Metaphorically.

"You know, it would probably be a lot easier for you if you'd just move on from her… Maybe you should be gay," Josef smiled coyly.

Nobody noticed that the strange Tirzin had melted into a puddle beneath the table. But the purple-haired guy and the tall attractive guy did notice the horror spreading across Tamaki's face.

"Surely another girl out there could pose of some interest to you," Oz said.

"Or boy."

"Certainly not! If Haruhi would just agree to marry me… my life would be complete!"

"So… what if she never does then?" Oz's voice had grown somehow soft. "What if she ends up marrying someone else?"

Tamaki stared.

"I'm just asking you to think realistically."

"I am… Haruhi was always meant to be mine."

Suddenly Oz's face became stern, no longer understanding. "She's her own person, she wasn't meant to belong to anyone," He even scowled, which was not like him at all. "Now, I think it's a good thing she refuses to be with you. You just see her as a slab of meat."

"That's a little harsh… if I didn't know any better, I'd wonder who exactly you're really referring to," Josef murmured into his cup of Joe.

Oz gave his friend a sharp glare.

"I don't think she's a slab of meat… She's a princess and I'm her king!"

Josef looked up, an amused smile quirking up his lips. "… doesn't that make you her dad?"

"Well what else would I be!?"

"I'm starting to think this is a lost cause," Oz mused, getting bored and going back to his care-free attitude.

"Yeah…" Josef confirmed, looking over at Oz, asking a question with his eyes.

Oz nodded briefly. "We need to head out Tamaki… I hope you can figure this one out."

"I know a lot of men who'd love to help you through this… just text me or something," Josef said, writing his digits on a napkin and pushing it across the table to the newly chestnut-haired man.

Tamaki didn't respond to either of them. They were gone, leaving him to think on their words and the strange thing was… He actually understood them and was taking them to heart. Not so much of what Josef had to say… But that Oz man, he seemed to have some points.

Then he realized that aside from the girls back in high-school, all the way back in Japan, he didn't know any women besides Haruhi. Actually, aside from his fellow hosts, he didn't really know men either. There were a few acquaintances he'd made over the years, but he spent most of his time just thinking about the future he'd have with Haruhi. A future that seemed like it would never come about now.

Suddenly, Tyrzyn was sitting across from him again.

"Did you always know that, even with those lovely bouguets, Haruhi would never want me?" Tamaki's voice sounded different, as if it wasn't his voice at all.

The Undertaker (because we ran out of vowels) also seemed different, his face serious. "Of course I did. You don't even know the girl you're supposedly in love with; all you see when you look at her is a fantasy. I agree with that Oz human, you haven't been thinking realistically, you're probably even more brainless than I am… And Haruhi deserves someone who will actually love her for her, not himself."

"Then… what am I supposed to do?"

The Undertaker smiled to himself. "I'm just a flower-shop owner. How should I know?" And the Undertaker stood, taking his small container of cookies in hand. Haruhi hadn't even tried them.

"Wait!" Tamaki called before the other man made it to the door.

Undies turned to see what the hopeless man wanted.

"… Could I have a cookie?"

Undies smiled and bounded back to the table excitedly, popping off the container's lid, happily spilling the contents of the container all over the tabletop. "There you go!" and the Undertaker didn't even stick around to see how the fruits of his intense labor were regarded.

Tamaki picked up a single crumbly cookie, looked it over, and took a miniscule bite. He promptly fell over and died. But lucky for him, he wasn't really dead, and the coffee shop owner called an ambulance and Tamaki was swiftly carted away to the hospital.

No one visited him that night.

Probably because no one knew he was there.

…

Kyoya was on a plane, going back to America. It wasn't going nearly fast enough. He needed to get back so he could protect his favorite person. He was nearing the edge of insanity when his laptop suddenly got a call. Tamaki was calling him.

"Tamaki?" Kyoya asked after he'd accepted the 'call.'

"Kyoya… I'm sorry I'm calling right now, I realize it's probably very hard for you at the moment and you should be mourning your loss but… could we talk a bit?" Tamaki's voice was low and solemn. Kyoya could hardly believe this was really his kingly friend that he was talking to. He looked at his laptop screen to confirm the contact name. Tamaki Suoh. In big, bold letters.

"It's alright… what would you like to talk about?" Kyoya asked, easing back into his chair, his body losing some of the rigidity it held only moments before.

"I just… Kyoya… Have I always been so horrible?"

That gave Kyoya pause, he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Tamaki sound so despondent. "What happened, Tamaki?" Kyoya asked.

"Well… I found out that… I don't know who Haruhi is, and I apparently don't really love her," the sad man said.

Kyoya rested his hand on his brow. He really didn't need this right now. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about someone he was confused for his feelings about with another person that he was… confused about. But as his mind was swimming in this circular confusion, he remembered why it was he was skipping out on visiting his brothers' grave: Haruhi and her safety.

"I need you to keep an eye on her," Kyoya spoke into the little microphone connected to his ear-buds.

"On Haruhi? I would if I could, Kyoya, but I can't even get out of bed right now… I'm surprised these crazy Americans even let me have my cellphone…"

"Where are you?" Kyoya asked.

"I'm in the hospital, stuck in this bed."

Kyoya was quiet for a moment trying to comprehend.

"Nobody's even visited me and I've been here all night!" Tamaki whined.

"Am I the only one you've contacted?" Kyoya asked.

"You think that's why?"

"Tamaki…" Kyoya tried not to sound too exasperated. "Call Haruhi, tell her you're in the hospital-"

"I can't! She hates me!"

"She doesn't hate you, trust me," Kyoya insisted. "Just get her there, and don't let her out of your sight until I get back."

"… Is something wrong? You're coming back already?" Tamaki sounded concerned.

"Nothing's wrong yet."

"Did something happen with your father?" Tamaki's voice was very gentle, perhaps the most friendly and concerning Kyoya had ever heard it. It made him feel somewhat guilty for a reason unbeknownst to him.

"No… Nothing happened, I'm needed more back home."

"Home?"

"Call Haruhi, I'm hanging up," and that's exactly what he did. He ended the call and leaned back into his first-class chair, sighing in slight agitation, wishing for a moment he could be in several places at once. He felt slightly bad about leaving his sister alone in her mourning, but once she heard the news he left behind… maybe her and Shido-san's life together would be made a little easier now. At least in the way of money.

It all came back to him in vivid memory then, the way his father's face had darkened a shade as Kyoya had stood from the table just as his father…

"I will be appointing my only son as head of-" and Kyoya standing silenced anything his father had been about to say.

He stood for a moment, removing his glasses so all could better see the seriousness of his stare. "I apologetically decline the title of heir to the Ootori corporation," and he walked out of the room, with one subtle backward glance at his father. He could practically see the storm raging in his father's expression…

It hadn't been as dramatic as he'd anticipated, but at least he had had the courage to do it. The company would have to go to his sister and Shido-san's children. The complete and utter silence that filled the room like a tangible presence was something that he had expected. Even as he'd walked, his shoes hardly made a sound. As he had exited from the conference room's door, he felt as if a ginormous weight had been lifted from his being. He'd never have to deal with his father's disappointment and disinterest ever again.


	25. Getting Played

Mori and Haruhi left the café. They were almost back to the apartment, hadn't spoken much since they left, only because there wasn't much either wanted to say, both being lost in their separate trains of thought. Mori kept taking sideways glances down the alleys they passed, occasional glances behind them, as if expecting to be attacked by something. He was tense, Haruhi had noticed, but he had never seemed completely relaxed since they came to this part of the world.

"Is everything alright senpai?" Haruhi asked as they turned the last corner to make it to the apartment's front door.

Before Mori could reply, Haruhi's phone began to ring. She answered it. "Kyoya?"

Mori couldn't help but glance down at her.

"Haruhi, I take it Tamaki didn't call you?" Kyoya asked.

"No…" Haruhi sounded somewhat bitter.

"He's in the hospital."

Incredibly, Haruhi felt nothing by those words being spoken. Unless he were dying, she had no desire to go see him.

"Oh," is all she replied with.

There was a pause on the other line.

"Oh?" Kyoya's voice, in that one word he communicated several emotions.

"He's not dying, right?" Haruhi asked.

"Well, no…"

"Then I don't really want to talk about Tamaki right now, Kyoya… I'm sorry but-"

"Where are you, who are you with?"

"I'm almost home, and I'm with Mori-senpai… Why?"

"Oh, good. Stay with Mori until I get back-"

"For three days?!" Haruhi squeaked. (Remember that one movie? The Road to El Dorado? Yeah, Miguel says that:))

"What? No. I'm on my way right now, I'll be back in approximately two hours and forty three minutes… or at least, that's when I'll be back in the states, it'll take about thirty two minutes to drive to the apartment… just stay there until I'm back," Kyoya said.

"But… why? Why are you coming back so early?" Haruhi asked, sounding slightly worried.

"For you… I. Mean. I'll explain everything when I get back," but that was obviously a lie, he wouldn't be explaining everything. "I'll see you soon," and he hung up.

Haruhi continued to hold the phone against her ear, even after the line went dead. Then slowly she lowered it, and stuck it back in her pocket.

"It was Kyoya?" Mori asked

"Yeah," Haruhi replied. "He sounded… worried, I think. Let's get inside." And they continued to the apartment.

When they got there, they were welcomed by complete silence. No one was home.

"Should I make something to eat?" Mori asked as he removed his black, leather jacket. He was wearing a burgundy V-neck T-shirt that hugged his torso and biceps in a way most appealing.

"No, I'm not hungry," Haruhi replied flippantly, as if her mind was somewhere else.

Mori stood silent for a moment, watching her. She had begun to walk towards the living room without taking off her coat or shoes. He walked towards her, behind her and begun to remove her coat for her. "You shouldn't wear that inside."

"Oh… sorry," She helped him get it off her, not paying attention to what exactly she was grabbing, until she felt a chill on her shoulder, realizing too late that she had pulled her arm halfway out of her blousy shirt. "Oops," and she fixed it, but not before Mori noticed her porcelain skin and the strawberry-pink strap of her bra.

Regardless of what he tried, it made his mind race with thoughts unseemly of any gentleman. It'd be a lie to say he hadn't noticed – just like all the other hosts – how Haruhi had developed since the end of high school.

"What are you thinking about?" Mori asked, trying to get his thoughts away from what they had been previously occupied with.

Haruhi didn't respond immediately, it took her a moment before her attention returned to Mori. "Huh? Oh nothing."

"What did Kyoya have to say?"

"He'll be back in a few hours."

"… Strange."

He might have replied with more, had his thoughts not been purely on Haruhi… and her bra strap.

"You don't seem too happy about it," Mori finally added after several moments of silence.

"About what?"

"Kyoya coming back so soon."

"No… it's not that… he wanted me to go visit Tamaki, but I don't want to."

"…Visit?"

"He's in the hospital."

That gave Mori pause. "Is he ok?"

"Well he's not dying."

"We need to go make sure he's ok," Mori said and immediately began walking toward the door, and he would've kept going had he not felt a very slight tug on the back of his shirt. He turned just as she snatched her hand away.

"Sorry," she said, not looking at him.

"You don't want to go?" Mori asked.

"No I – it's just that," but before she could finish, her phone was ringing again. She dug it out of her pocket and wasn't surprised to see Tamaki's name lighting up the screen. Wordlessly, she handed the phone to Mori and walked out of the room, heading down the hall.

Mori stared after her for a few rings, then answered her phone.

"Haruhi?" Tamaki's voice came frantically on the line before Mori had a chance to say anything. "Don't hang up!"

"It's Mori," Mori said flatly.

"Mori? Haruhi's with you?"

"Yeah," Mori said.

"Oh, good, that's good. Keep an eye on her will you? Kyoya was worried about her for some reason, and I doubt she wants the person looking after her to be… me," Tamaki's voice lost its desperate edge, sobering to near depression. "She'll be safer with you anyway."

"Tamaki…" Mori began.

"Oh, HEY! Wait!" Tamaki's voice blared into Mori's ear. "Stay with her, Mori. I've gotta go, just saw someone I know – HEY! …" and the line went dead. Mori pulled the phone away from his ear, and stared at the blank screen for a moment. Something was going on, that was obvious, but neither he nor Haruhi knew what it was. He set the phone down on the kitchen bar to his left then walked down the hall after Haruhi. He found her sitting on her now clean floor, leaning against her newly made bed… He'd been keeping her room clean for her; anytime he had a small break between classes, he was tidying up, making and refrigerating meals, trying to make life a little easier for them all.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, but couldn't stay there when she looked up at him. So he had to think, should he leave, or should he go in? It didn't take him long to decide, quickly taking a step past the threshold into the girl's room. It was strange, he was always in this room, he visited it the same amount, if not more, than his own room and yet, he was hardly ever there when the true owner occupied it. It suddenly seemed like foreign territory.

"What did he say?" Haruhi asked, the tone of her voice made it sound as if she didn't actually care. She probably didn't, Mori guessed. He was going to tell her anyway.

"He wants you to stay with me," Mori said as he sat down next to Haruhi on her floor.

She didn't reply, only nodded with her lips pursed. A tempting little pucker. Mori looked away. He wouldn't let anything happen to her, and he wouldn't let himself get carried away by irrational feelings. He took Haruhi's hand and stood up, pulling her with him.

"We need a snack," he said, and they walked out of the room.

…

He looked different. Older perhaps? He had to make himself look older to work where he did. He spent the night mixing drinks and serving them to various patrons. He needed money for only one reason. The purchase of several roses per week. Seven to be exact; although, there was the rare addition of one every once in a while. But that was hardly normal.

It had been a fairly slow night and for the most part he had been amusing himself by wiping down the bar, over and over again. He actually got a sudden rush of excitement as he heard the soft click of the club's door open and close. He looked up with a smile to offer his new costumer. His smile slipped, his cheeks warmed as soon as he saw the guest.

"Ciel…?"

"S-Sebastian?" Ciel's eyes looked this way and that, taking mental note of the three other men currently in the calm atmosphere of the bar.

"Fancy meeting you here," Sebastian said and strolled up to the bar, taking a seat.

A smile had taken residence on Sebastian's face, a smile that was neither happy nor filled with devilish intent. It was a smile nearly untranslatable and seeing as how Ciel was on the verge of losing his mind with not knowing what to do in the situation, he wasn't even trying to decipher the curve of his former butler's lips anyway.

"Aren't you going to ask me what I want?" Sebastian asked. Now he looked amused, that same smile from before ever-present.

Ciel cleared his throat. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"Now then, that was hardly welcoming."

Ciel closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, a small, friendly, false, smile appeared. "I'm sorry, sir, what may I get for you?"

"Well, I thought I'd look at your bar menu, and maybe you could go ahead and give me my daily rose. It'd save you a trip to my apartment," Sebastian said.

Ciel watched Sebastian, making no move to retrieve a bar menu or a rose. "Why did you never answer the door?"

"I didn't feel like it. I didn't want to see you… I didn't want to see you now, but here you are, unfortunately," Sebastian drawled on, and by the amusement that played on his features, it was difficult to tell if he were being serious or not.

"Then why are you here?"

Suddenly, Sebastian's face became serious. "I wanted a drink."

"You, the great Sebastian Michaelis, came to a bar, run by mere humans, because you wanted a drink. Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Of course not, but I'm not changing my story," Sebastian smirked. "But since I am here… Is this really what you've made your life become? You're working so you can buy me flowers? You're a demon, if you want a rose, you don't need to buy one, you don't even need to look for one, you could fashion one out of the air around you… so why?"

"It seemed a more genuine gift if I were to work for it."

That shut Sebastian up. It was almost like how it had been when Ciel was still his master, the way he never fully knew what Ciel's intentions were. He had always kept Sebastian on his toes.

They stared at each other. Ciel had done something with his looks again. He really wasn't the same young boy anymore. He could easily be passed off as a man. Sebastian knew better.

"If you don't want to see me, I can get someone else to serve you," Ciel said beginning to turn away.

"No, I want you," Sebastian stopped him.

Ciel turned back to him, his eyes questioning.

"Bring your rose tomorrow. Perhaps you'll be able to deliver it to me in person."

And with that, Sebastian got up from his chair, ordering nothing, and left the bar. Ciel watched the tall pale man leave, then turned back to his meticulous scrubbing, a smile slowly taking residence on his lips. The boy wondered if Sebastian knew he was about to lose.

…

AND FINALLY, THAT LONG-ASS DAY IS OVER!

They had been talking all night. After Tamaki had nearly strangled himself trying to get out of that damn bed and stop the purple-haired boy from disappearing down the hospital hallway.

"Yeah… I'm not really gay… but don't tell anyone (not even the fans, don't let them know)," Josef admitted, just as the sun began to rise. "Especially not Oz."

"Not Oz? But I thought you loved him," Tamaki stammered.

"Well, I mean, I do, in a sense. That's why he can't know the truth," Josef said, smiling a little.

"But… Why? I don't get it," Tamaki said, confused.

"Because I'm in love with his girl," Josef said, looking out the window, the small smile on his lips holding no happiness.

"But… if you love her, shouldn't you be honest?"

"You see… I thought about that, but the thing is, he'd be able to keep her happy a lot longer than I would."

"Oh…" And for a moment, Tamaki seemed to really think about what Josef had said.

"I should probably head out, see you around Tamaki," Josef said before standing and leaving.

"Goodbye…" And it was then that Tamaki realized he'd never even asked why Josef was at the hospital in the first place.

…

The room looked hazy, the dust in the air easily seen in the rays of light that streamed in past the curtains of the windows… But it was odd to Mori, because he didn't remember the walls of his room being beige… And since when did the blinds get replaced with curtains anyway? And he certainly didn't remember having a proper bed. He slept on a cot (you remember, don't you?).

The scent of sleep and coconut filled his nostrils… He only smelled coconut when…

He moved his head jerkily to the side and that's when he saw what lay beside him… Haruhi.

He just stared, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

Haruhi wasn't the most beautiful sleeper, her lips were parted and they were rather moist in one corner, though she hadn't started drooling quite yet, so that was good.

Before he was able to become completely enthralled with the fact that he was lying next to her he realized that… he was lying next to her… in her bed… he remembered nothing of last night. He looked under the covers, a slight sense of calmness washing over him like a cool breeze as he confirmed that they were both still clothed. He wasn't completely relieved, however, because he was still lying next to her with no recollection of how he'd gotten there, which is never a very comforting thought.

He rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands; he could feel a slight ache throbbing at the back of his skull. When he opened his eyes again, he wished the sun wasn't shining. Too bright. He closed his eyes. The plum sake. That explained it. She'd found the twins' stash. Started drinking, but it wasn't good to drink alone, especially that much.

He felt a shifting beside him and he froze. Haruhi was mumbling something, then she was right up against him, shoving her nose against his neck. Her nose was surprisingly cold. Then her arm was snaking its way across his chest, pulling her little body flush against his side. Her breath was warm, but it made him shiver regardless. And he was at a loss, couldn't figure out what to do besides stay as still as possible.

They were lucky it was Saturday and didn't have to worry about missing classes, Mori mused, and relaxed a little. He just hoped no one would find them this way, it might cause some sort of suspicions to arise, and he'd never hear the end of it. Probably none of the other hosts had come home last night, he surely would've woken up if someone had, the front door didn't have the quietest of hinges; not to mention that none of the hosts were prone to peaceful entrances.

He gently embraced her back and buried his nose in her hair. He could hold her for a little while. As he closed his eyes, ready to sleep for just a little longer, he heard the faintest sound. The sound of wood moving across carpet and it caused his eyes to open once again.

Mori brought his head up, losing some of Haruhi's scent as he looked towards the door. Eyes as dark as his own stared back at him.

Kyoya's face was completely blank as he took in the scene in front of him. Kyoya left and closed the door behind him without a word from either of the men, without a stir from Haruhi, as if it was all accepted and fine. Mori was skeptical. Something in him was screaming, telling him to get up, move, explain.

"Senpai," Haruhi breathed against his neck, and that stilled that voice inside him.

...

Kyoya shut the door gently behind him, making sure the click was as subdued as possible. He stood there for a moment in quiet contemplation, because in all reality, he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about what he'd just seen. He could feel a tightening just beneath his ribs, it wasn't very comfortable, so he took a deep breath and headed down the hall to his own room. His suit case was cast unapologetically askew at the foot of his untouched bed. Everything about his room, aside from the suitcase, was as he'd left it, tidy, organized, as he liked it.

He decided he felt really terrible. Maybe he should sit down. So he sat on his bed. But it felt the same. Maybe lying down would be better, so he did that. And as he stared up at the popcorn textured ceiling, his thoughts just became that much more scattered and confused.

He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and that's when he realized he wasn't wearing his glasses. Though he didn't remember ever removing them and wondered for a moment if he'd lost them somewhere. At the moment, however, he wasn't entirely sure he cared, seeing as how he could see perfectly fine. And Haruhi was in the arms of another man in just the other room.

He felt really awful.

So what? She was safe wasn't she? Mori wouldn't let anything bad happen to her… unless he was the bad happening to her… What a horrid thought.

Kyoya covered his face with his hands, and proceeded to groan into them. He absolutely could not stay here for another second, if he did he might start breaking things, which would just be unfortunate since he really did like all of his things quite a bit. So he stood up and grabbed his wallet and walked out of his room, shutting his door behind him with a resounding click. Maybe he should go retrieve Tamaki from the hospital.

So that's exactly what he set out to do. He got his keys and headed for his car and as he neared his car in the parking garage, he saw a very interesting something. Kaoru was getting out of a red sports car and what's more, a tall man was opening the door for him. The man had short, bright red hair that was styled in such a way that it reminded Kyoya of Akihiko from the very popular and very good manga/anime Junjou Romantica (the same manga/anime that PP finally convinced Monkey to watch with her/him!). Kyoya had never actually read/watched it though… and as Kyoya continued to stare, even as Kaoru got out and kissed the man, long on the lips… he realized who the brightly red-haired man was. It was Grell. And it was Kaoru… and it was two men.

Kyoya still hadn't started his car, even after Kaoru was gone, he just stared at Grell as he went back around to the driver's side of his car, opened the door, and looked up at him… Their eyes locked and for a moment Kyoya just stared blankly. But after another moment, Grell smiled and shut the door he had just opened without getting in to his car. Kyoya wasn't sure what to think as the other man began to walk towards him.

Grell knocked on Kyoya's car-door window.

"What?" Kyoya asked as he rolled down the window.

"Here's my business card," Grell said handing out a small, rectangular piece of cardstock held between two fingers.

Kyoya took it out of instinct.

"You seemed rather troubled, so I thought it might be beneficial to give you it. Please, stop by any time for your first free consultation!" And with that done, Grell walked swiftly away.

Kyoya didn't even want to look down at what the card read. He already knew. As his eyes went slowly down, he confirmed his thoughts.

He decided to not worry about whether or not Grell and him would have a future together as counselor and patient. He was a man on a mission a mission he seemed to be far too easily side-tracked away from. In fact, he got completely distracted and didn't even go to get Tamaki in the end, because he wanted to buy a hookah off amazon. But then all the ones that he wanted were review-less, so that was depressing. And he hated southern accents! Everything was a bother, so he just stayed in his car and contemplated various things about wanting to smoke hookah.

So instead of buying one off amazon, he decided we would just go find a hookah lounge and smoke one that he wouldn't have to bother cleaning afterward.

"I'm not going to clean it," he mumbled to himself and started up his car, turned on his GPS and was off!

As he was driving, many cars stood in his way, all puttering along and spewing smoke into the damp air. With each cloud of smoke, it just made his mouth water all the more for that fragrantly, tasty vaporized smoke. He sped forward, weaving through the throng of cars, until finally he was there! And it was also evening! (just so you know, because that's important)

Once he got to the hookah lounge, one with a name unimportant to him, he went in. What he saw when he entered through the small, hole-in-the-wall door was rather jarring to him… a man with purple hair was sitting next to a brunette, but that's not what Kyoya found so odd. The brunette… he knew him. He was….

Kyoya hit his own forehead with the palm of his hand.

"Idiot…" Kyoya mumbled to himself.

When he looked up once again, the brunette was waving frantically towards him, as if he would have never noticed him otherwise.

"Kyoya! Kyoya!" Tamaki began to call, just in case Kyoya hadn't noticed his waving either, even though Tamaki and his friend were the only two in the place.

Kyoya began to make his way slowly over to the two men. His best friend and… some other man. He could feel his throat go suddenly dry… why had he come here to begin with? Wasn't he originally going to the hospital to pick Tamaki up? And yet, here he was, in the random place he had decided to visit instead, almost as if he was pulled there by some other force.

The purple-haired man smiled pleasantly as Kyoya neared.

"Kyoya! This is Josef, he's a gay!"

The purple-haired man smiled at Tamaki as if they were sharing a joke by what Tamaki had said.

Suddenly, Kyoya's throat became even drier… Tamaki was hanging out with a homosexual? It wouldn't have bothered him so much if his supposed desire hadn't been so…

"You're lucky, this place doesn't actually open for another hour," the purple-haired man spoke pleasantly, really he had a very nice voice, not at all harsh on the ears. What on earth..? "So I'm assuming your name is Kyoya? Am I saying that right?" the purple-haired Josef asked. "Tamaki talks a lot about you, I sort of feel like we know each other already," that impish smile, so full of bright, white teeth.

"Does he?" Kyoya asked, his voice sounding far from interested.

Now Tamaki talked to gay men about him? What was going on? Haruhi was faraway in her dreamland, surrounded by strong, capable arms, and here Tamaki was – when he was supposed to be in the hospital – with this attractive gay man, smoking the evening into being. And here Kyoya was, entirely confused by it all.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to… this one alone for a moment," Kyoya said, motioning to Tamaki, his voice never slipping from its supposed indifference.

"Of course," the man of the purple hair replied with a keen smile. "I'll go get us a bigger hookah."

So Josef was off, and Kyoya sat across from Tamaki. It was odd, it seemed as soon as Josef left, Tamaki appeared a bit more serious, and Kyoya dropped his unaffected guise.

Kyoya eyed Tamaki's hair. "Why did you dye it? Didn't I tell you not to?"

"It's chestnut, don't worry," Tamaki assured the rather agitated Kyoya.

Kyoya rubbed his eyes.

"You said not brown," Tamaki clarified.

"I know what I said…" Kyoya mumbled. "Why are you talking about me to a gay man?" Kyoya asked.

"Well, I already told him all about Haruhi, so I figured I'd tell him about you next," Tamaki grinned.

Kyoya stared. "What all did you tell him?"

"About Haruhi, or you?" Tamaki's voice didn't sound quite like himself, there was nearly no playfulness in his tone, he looked calculative.

Kyoya wasn't even sure how to respond. He was at a loss for words. That wasn't something that happened often, especially around Tamaki.

"What's your problem?"

Kyoya froze. When had Tamaki developed sass? Kyoya didn't remember him ever asking something like that in that tone of voice before. At least not with Kyoya.

"What do you mean?" Kyoya asked.

"I mean you're being really critical," Tamaki said. "So what if I'm talking about my best friend to a gay man, are you a homophobe, Kyoya?"

Kyoya sighed. "You're the one who made the fact that he's gay a thing, and no I'm not."

"Well someone's sexual orientation shouldn't affect how other people treat them," Tamaki said.

"I agree," Kyoya stated.

"Oh… well… so why do you want to know what I told him about you?"

"Why are you so hesitant to tell me?"

"Quit asking questions when I ask you questions!" Tamaki rightly bellowed.

Kyoya raised his eyebrows.

"I just told him that you were missing your brothers' funeral to come back and be with Haruhi…" Tamaki finally admitted.

"Not to be with her…" Kyoya started quickly.

"Then to what? You came back because of her, right?" Tamaki asked.

"I was informed of certain circumstances that could possibly put her in danger… So I came back to make sure she was… safe," Kyoya said.

"I'm back!" Josef declared, holding a massive 35" hookah, all black and silver with three hoses. "This is my favorite one, I call her… Smoky," Josef smiled humorously. "Really though, massive clouds."

Josef put the hookah down, the excitement on his face as he placed several coals atop the screen over the bowl was impossible to miss. He sat down, picked up one of the hoses, took several pulls until it become as thick as it was able. "Oh yeah…" Josef watched in awe at the rings he'd made; they stayed intact to nearly the ceiling. "The beauty!"

"Is there really only shisha in there?"

Josef turned his head sharply to Kyoya, looking insulted. "No ganja will ever touch this hookah… I don't care how dank your fucking weed is!"

"… Alright, good to know," Kyoya said then took a pull himself. He'd only discovered his fondness for this sort of activity after he'd had that randomly ridiculous roll as the caterpillar during his hosting days. He'd come to appreciate how calm it made him feel. He took another puff and breathed it out his nose. "Hmm… blueberry, and…?"

"Flames," Josef supplied. "I would use brandy, but we're out of that at the moment. Terribly unfortunate."

"I don't know," Tamaki said, watching his own smoky breath swirl away. "I kind of like this combo."

"You've never tried the brandy though," Josef said.

"True," Tamaki said.

"So, how long have you two known each other?" Josef asked.

Kyoya looked at the purple-haired man, trying to figure out what exactly it was that he was trying at. "Since junior high," Kyoya stated.

"Hmmm… That's nice," Josef replied.

"Why?" Kyoya couldn't hold back his curiosity.

Josef flashed him another devious smile. "Oh, I was just wondering."

At least Tamaki wasn't going to find out about Mori and Haruhi anytime soon. Kyoya just wished he hadn't happened upon that little scene.

…

In another hole-in-the-wall shop, down the way, a silver-haired man was busy conducting a serious form of surgery. A bright scalpel was held delicately in his right hand while the other held the thin paper taught on his little cutting board. He had only one cut left to make and he progressed with the surest of movements, stopping the point of the scalpel in the exact place.

He moved his goggles to his forehead and lifted the slip of extracted paper with a pair of tweezers. He held the thin vellum up to the light to better study the name printed there, in delicate script, as he unceremoniously tossed the cutting board aside and shut the now irrelevant book with a quick little thump. Fujioka, Haruhi the slip of paper read, and the man finally sighed in relative relief. Now he just needed to return the book without anyone noticing; practically the easiest part of the job.

He took hold of the jar he had prepared. It was half filled with immaculately chosen grains of purest salt. He placed the paper within then lifted the measuring cup full of the rest of the salt. He poured the salt, covering the paper, then sealed the jar with a screw on lid. Perfect.

…

The house had been exceptionally quiet ever since Grell had left. Solitude and peace used to be something Sebastian truly cherished, but he had grown so accustomed to Grell's rambunctious and noisy personality that now, he just felt lonely… an emotion purely human.

He was waiting for Ciel to come; although, he wasn't entirely sure what he would do once his former master arrived. Obviously he'd be opening the door this time, but beyond that simple act he had absolutely no idea where this little visit would go.

Knuckles tap-tapping against wood signaled Sebastian's wait was over. He stood from his place on the couch he'd been sitting and walked towards the front door. He was debating on whether he should rush or not. As he opened the door, it didn't matter, because there, right in front of him was the young man who had been at the bar earlier.

"You made it."

"You opened the door."

"Come in."

Ciel's eyes wandered around the house, sizing everything up. Nothing seemed to measure up to his standards.

"It's not nearly as terrible as I expected," Sebastian remarked.

"What?" Ciel asked, turning his attention away from the dull home and towards Sebastian.

"Having you in my home," Sebastian said.

"Ah… So, were you just waiting until Grell left to invite me in?"

"Not really."

"I think you were. You were waiting to see if it'd work out for the two of you, don't lie about it Sebastian," Ciel pushed.

"Why would I want to wait and see if things 'worked out' between Grell and I? Don't be absurd," Sebastian seethed.

"Lying to yourself is an unhealthy habit, Sebastian," Ciel returned.

Ciel walked himself into the living-room and took the liberty of sitting on the couch. He bounced on it several time, testing how comfortable it was.

"This couch has seen quite a bit of death, hasn't it?"

"This entire house has," Sebastian confirmed.

"Hmm, well, I can't say I'm that surprised," Ciel mumbled. "You and Grell's occupations aren't exactly the cleanest of jobs. I suppose that's why you were so intent on seeing if you two would work well together."

Sebastian stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, Grell had taken the recliner, and Sebastian had no desire to be closer to Ciel than he had to. This wasn't going quite as smoothly as he had momentarily thought. It was eating at him quite profusely, the fact that this little meeting wasn't progressing as he had wanted it to – not that he'd really known how he wanted it to go.

And there was still the problem of remaining in this form, in this world… when he could be in the dark, waiting for a succulent soul to request his aid. Why was he still here? That fact had been bothering him for quite a while. He had stayed because of his contract with this smallish imp, but after that had been broken… he really hadn't had a reason to remain. He'd blamed Grell next, reasoning that the idiot couldn't possibly survive on his own, but that wasn't true, obviously.

"Cat got your tongue Sebastian?" Ciel asked. "What are you thinking about? How right I am?"

"On the contrary, I was just wondering, why is it that you and I are still here?"

"What?"

"I'm a demon of the purest form. I've been a demon for my entire existence, when Lucifer was thrown from heaven I was right alongside him. Then there's you, you were turned, hundreds of years ago and yet, here we both are, still living among the humans," Sebastian's heartfelt monologue began and ended without much fanfare.

"What's your point?"

"It isn't natural, the way we're living. Why are we still here?"

A sudden silence ensued between them. Sebastian held Ciel's eyes as he waited for an answer. Ciel blinked several times. "Are you trying to imply something?"

"I'm not sure, am I?"

"Would you stop it with your infernal riddles and just answer the damn question?" Ciel's voice had begun to sound nearly frantic as if he too had been wondering the same thing and thirsted for the answer.

"I would, but I myself am not entirely sure of the answer."

They stared at each other once again, the silence pervading the air around them. That is, until Ciel began to laugh.

"You really don't know, do you? And here I was thinking you might be able to outwit me!"

Sebastian stared blankly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't know about you, Sebastian, but I do have a purpose here, I'm still fulfilling it."

After all, Kyoya was still alive.

Sebastian was in the middle of being quite confused when the front door was banged open.

"OOOOOOooooh Bassy! I'm back! I seem to have misplaced something of dire importance!" And Grell waltzed into the living room. "It's rather smallish so-oooh my, what the hell is going on here?! How exciting! Master and servant finally reunited, perhaps in a steamy sort of way? You don't mind if I watch do you, Bassy?" Grell sidled up to Sebastian's side and pressed familiarly against him before he really knew what he was doing. "Oh, pardon me," and he stepped a slightly safer distance away.

"Wait," Sebastian demanded, grabbing Grell by the back of his collar (and thus forgot Ciel like he was yesterday's garbage!). "What, exactly, did you misplace?"

"Oh Bassy! LET ME GO!" Grell began to flail this way and that until Sebastian shook him. It took a few seconds before Grell finally calmed down. He looked down and began to tap his two index fingers together repeatedly. "Well… you see… it's a rather small slip of paper with a single name… possibly scrawled on it…"

"What name?" Sebastian's suspicion began to grow.

"Well… you see… I don't really know."

"Let me guess… this was your next assignment wasn't it?" Sebastian asked.

"How did you know?"

"You idiot… I was helping you keep track, remember? Because you're completely incompetent… you do realize you'll be kicked out if you mess up one more assignment right?" Sebastian said, finally letting go of the red-haired fiend. Ciel observed the entire display, a look of detestation on his face. The way Sebastian was acting, it was as if he actually cared.

"I'm painfully aware," Grell chuckled. "That's why I'm actually looking for the damn thing! The deadline is almost upon me! Precisely… well, I'll need to check the date again, but I know it's not today or tomorrow, so I should be good… if I can just find it. I don't know how I could've lost it, it's not like my scissors can cut things themselves and-"

"Wait," Sebastian interrupted him. "It was cut out?"

"Well duh, I did say a sliver of paper, not the entire page you idiot."

"… if you didn't cut it out, Grell, then someone else had to. You've been stolen from."

"… Never would've thought of that," Grell confessed before gasping quite unseemly. "WILLIAM! It must have been that imbecile he's been trying to kick me out for years!"

"… I doubt even William would go so far to kick you out by tampering with the Book of Names. That man is a scrooge when it comes to protocol," Sebastian reasoned.

"Well, seems you're occupied so I'll be going," Ciel suddenly slipped in.

"Stop!" Sebastian said.

The tall pale man turned his dark eyes on the younger male just rising from the couch.

"You know something," Sebastian said with certainty.

"I know a lot of things," Ciel chimed. "But this time, you're going to have to watch this riddle unfold."

"What?"

"Too many things have been set in motion, fates are being rewritten," Ciel sauntered over to the window and with, casual grace, opened it wide.

"Ciel, what are you doing?"

"Oh no, it's: What have I done?" and Ciel lithely leapt into the night sky.

…


	26. Complications

They'd been visiting for a while now, the sun had since set and they'd opened the remaining Nigori bottle, sharing it between them. It'd been a while since the blond had come back to the apartment, always busy with classes or the various parties he was invited to, choosing to stay over at one of his lady's apartments when the gatherings were over. He was a busy man. And Kaoru was happy for him.

"Do you think you'll go back to Japan when this semester's over?" He finally asked, he'd been holding off asking this question, mostly because he was sort of afraid of the answer.

Jane (Honey) sat in cool contemplation for a few moments, "It's hard to say." The tall blond said after a moment, his brown eyes shooting to Kaoru's expectant face. "The women here seem to be much easier, not to mention fuller, in all the right places, so that's something to be considered."

Kaoru nodded several times in agreement, although his thoughts were hardly plagued by the voluptuousness of women, that is, when it came to being attracted to them. He often thought of women's bodies, but only if he were creating clothing for them. To him, the only difference between the women in American and Japan was that, in America, he simply had to use more fabric.

"Speaking of women, where's Haruhi? I haven't seen her in months."

"You haven't seen any of us in months."

Jane smiled slightly, a little smirk curling his lips and making his eyes sparkle. It was attractive, Kaoru couldn't deny that. "I'm a busy man."

"Too busy to make time for your true friends it seems… But I suppose I can't completely blame you, what with missing out all through high school… it's incredible how naïve you were."

It wasn't entirely clear if Kaoru was trying to be harsh or just translucently blunt.

"It is, isn't it? So, where did you say Haruhi was?"

Kaoru lightly scoffed. "I'm not sure, I haven't seen her all day. She's probably sleeping though."

"Shouldn't we wake her up then?"

Kaoru stared at his friend. He really had changed and not really for the better. How inconsiderate had he become in his time of absence exactly? "Haruhi has really difficult classes now, and a lot of them. She doesn't always get to sleep, but she's earned her right to… so no, we shouldn't."

"But Kao-chan, I haven't seen her in months."

"That's your fault, Mitsukuni-senpai."

Jane seemed a bit miffed by Kaoru's stiff reply. A small pout appeared on the blond's plump lips.

"Are you mad at me?" His pout made an appearance in his voice and remained on his angelic face.

"Not at you, just the way you're acting."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No, because you aren't really acting like you right now."

Jane watched his friend for a moment in unexpressive silence before he abruptly stood. As he began walking away, Kaoru half expected him to up and leave, but that thought was soon tossed aside when Jane took a right instead of a left. He was going right down the hallway in which all the rooms were aligned.

"Jane!" Kaoru yelled annoyed… he was pretty loud and he realized that he'd probably just woken Haruhi up regardless now… then he remembered it was Haruhi and nothing wakes her except maybe the smell of bacon.

He chased after Jane anyway. But he was too late, because Jane had already made it to Haruhi's bedroom door and flung it open. Kaoru didn't quite understand why Jane didn't continue on and enter the room, that is, until he also peered in and witnessed the horror held within… Haruhi had grown, to massive proportions. She'd even cut her hair short again and dyed it black! She even had scruff on her chin! And she had some small being's head resting on her hard chest!...

"Takashi…" Jane growled, and that's when Kaoru understood the wrongness he had seen.

Haruhi hadn't grown, or any of that, she was the one resting on the other's chest. What on earth were they thinking? Those two? Being together in such an intimate way, where anyone of the other hosts could easily find them?

"Get away from precious Haruhi! How dare you try to steal her virtue!" and just like that, Jane was upon them, ripping Mori from under the covers and away from his precious. He tossed the dumbfounded Mori to the floor and followed, taking the larger male by the collar of his shirt and lifting him closer to his own face. "You've been a bad bunny," he growled when he had the sleepy Mori secured in his grasp.

Mori blinked several times before his eyes went wide in disbelief. "M-Mitsukuni!" Perhaps the most emotion Mori had ever used while speaking.

"The name's Jane, to you."

"What… what's going on?" A small voice came from the bed, a tired Haruhi rising to a sitting position as she lazily rubbed at her sleep-ridden eyes. Kaoru sighed when he realized she was fully clothed, and Mori too. Maybe nothing had happened… but that still didn't explain why they were in bed together.

Then Kaoru scoffed for the second time that night, because he realized, after all these years, of all the hosts throwing themselves at her, the first to ever see under her covers was the one in most quiet pursuit.

"You are in no position to be asking questions, Haru-chan," Jane spoke with unveiled vehemence. (Please take note, dear readers, that Honey's voice is no longer voiced by a woman, but by a man now)

"What? Honey-senpai?" She mumbled, trying to swipe the hair out of her eyes, but she was still quite sluggish with sleep. And she wasn't even sure if that manly sounding person was her little Honey, it probably wasn't.

"Mitsu-Jane," Mori sputtered. "It's not what – it's nothing – nothing happened… we were drinking – nothing happened…" his dark, dark eyes were a solemn plea.

Jane was shaking, but just barely, Kaoru was staring so intensely at the two men, and still he just barely noticed the slight tremble in the blond's arms. He knew Honey cared about Haruhi, but this was… strange. Kaoru couldn't help but wonder if, perhaps, he and the rest of the host's had failed to notice the feelings of one of their own.

"Are you lying to me? You're not, right? You wouldn't lie, not to me, right? Even though – Takashi, are you punishing me?!" Honey's grip on his best friend tightened, then, in a flash, he let go with his right hand, and swung.

The fleshy sound of a solid punch filled the quiet room.

"Stop!" Haruhi yelled a moment later, but the slightly smaller blond was in the thick of his own rage, and Mori was on the ground, taking the brunt of it all. "Stop!" Haruhi shrieked.

Kaoru couldn't stop staring. What was happening? Wide-eyed, worried, smelling iron.

Haruhi was a small blur in his fixated vision. A waif, with wild hair, jumping at a honey-gold lion.

…

He'd been staring at the jar now for about an hour or so. The book was returned, his surgery tools were stored in their proper places, and he'd rearranged his window display. The problem he was facing now wasn't exactly a simple one: what to do with this jar? Should he put it on a shelf, or in the window? Where should he display such a beautiful jar of salt? And what's more, it contained a beautiful name in it as well.

He'd have to think about it a bit longer.

…

They were all sitting around the kitchen table. Mori and Haruhi's hair still disheveled from deep sleep and Jane's eyes still blazing with fury. Kaoru hated this. Absolutely hated it.

"Soooo…" Jane drawled. "You got us in here… now explain yourself, Princess."

Haruhi squinted at Jane, not only had she left her glasses in the room and couldn't see, but she also didn't like being called a princess. At all. "I don't see why I have to explain. I didn't do anything wrong. And neither did Mori," she huffed.

"Hm-kk-ah…" Jane seemed to be malfunctioning. "Are you guys… together?"

Mori's eyes widened slightly. And Haruhi blinked.

"No," Haruhi said.

"And yet, she called him Mori… Kao-chan," Jane turned big brown eyes on the younger twin. "She called him Mori…"

"So… should I start making a wedding dress for when you two decide to elope?" Kaoru asked, trying to bring some humor to the situation… it didn't really help.

"Who's eloping?"

No one had heard the front door open (surprisingly) and no one had heard Hikaru enter the kitchen until his voice was upon them. All eyes turned to the twin in question. Kaoru briskly looked away, just as soon as he'd caught his brother's eye.

"Those two," Jane accused.

"NO ONE!" Haruhi bellowed.

"Ok," Hikaru said. "What's going on? What're you doing here, Honey-senpai?"

"Jane. And I'm here because I'm protecting Haruhi's virtue!"

"Oh yeah… You weren't here to visit me or anything…" Kaoru mumbled.

"Her virtue? What are you talking about? Was someone trying to steal it?" Hikaru laughed to himself.

"Yeah," Jane replied flippantly.

Hikaru's laughing ceased. "What?" His eyes rushed to Haruhi, noting her sleepy face and crazy hair… his eyes trailed to Mori, who had a similar description, plus some bruising beginning to show through his tan skin. Hikaru's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"They were in bed together, and now they won't tell me -" Jane began.

"In bed?" Hikaru began, his voice sounding distant, as if he were talking to himself rather than the room full of people. "Together…?"

"Yes, and they won't explain why, or what in the hell they were doing…" Jane said, and crossed his arms.

Hikaru's eyes jumped to look at Mori, his gaze desperate as he searched for an answer in the big-man's face. That was his best friend, why couldn't he read him now?

"Nothing happened," Haruhi said.

"And nothing was going to," Mori added; he looked into Hikaru's eyes just as desperately as Hikaru looked into Mori's.

Hikaru stared a moment longer, and his shoulders drooped from their tense position. "They're telling the truth," he sighed.

"The hell they are! No man and woman can just-just lie in bed together and not DO anything!" Jane exclaimed, rising from his chair in indignation.

"… A real man can," Mori stated.

Kaoru and Hikaru couldn't help the bursts of laughter that pushed their way up their throats, but they both stopped almost as soon as they started, glancing at each other for a mere moment.

"… Now that that's solved… what's up with you two?" Haruhi asked the twins.

The two identical men stole a quick glance at each other before looking back at Haruhi.

"Nothing is 'up'…" Kaoru started and a moment later, at the same time, they both spoke in unison. "We're fine."

They clenched their jaws.

Haruhi squinted first in the direction of Kaoru, then tried to squint at Hikaru but she got him confused with the fridge, somehow.

"What's going on?" she said. "You two are hiding something. It's pretty obvious."

Jane seemed suddenly taken aback, all his attention leaving the immoralities of Haruhi and Mori and resetting on the twins. He studied them, most of his attention on Kaoru. Kaoru hadn't mentioned any kind of feud between him and his brother when they'd been talking earlier. He had seemed completely fine. It was then that he realized Kaoru hadn't said a single thing about his older brother the entire time they'd been catching up. That should have been a giveaway in and of itself.

Hikaru sat down in a chair at the table, crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat and looked up at everyone, a soft scowl defining his face. "Well, if you really want to know, it's Kaoru who's doing the 'hiding'."

The eyes around the table that had been shifting between the two twins all stopped, all zoning in on Kaoru. Who, presently, was in the middle of trying not to blush. And, of course, he soon realized that blushing wasn't something one could control through mere determination.

"It's not like I'm hiding it…" Kaoru mumbled.

"You just haven't told anyone," Hikaru mumbled back.

"Wait… does this have anything to do with that guy you were with?" Haruhi asked.

Kaoru didn't say anything. He just stared. When his face turned as red as his lover's hair, everyone knew the answer.

"Guy!? What guy?" Jane asked, completely enamored.

"Guy?" Mori asked in apathetic question.

"Who was he? I forgot to ask you about him."

"…Wait… when did you… how do you?" Kaoru stuttered in Haruhi's direction.

"She was with me when I saw you with him," Hikaru sighed, seeming annoyed that he had to explain something of this nature.

Kaoru scoffed at him. "And you didn't tell her about it later? Wow, that's new," his voice dripped with scornful sarcasm.

Hikaru shot his twin a smoldering glare. "Kaoru is dating that disgusting, perverse, string-plucking band member from The Butler."

"Who?" someone asked.

"The one that was always trying to be a woman and wear Haruhi's clothes," Hikaru clarified.

"Oh, that one," Jane said. "I thought he was in love with the dark-haired guy…"

"Well, he likes me now so…" Kaoru was pouting.

Then Jane looked up, because it had finally dawned on him. "You're dating him… A man? You're gay?"

"…Yeah…"

"Oh… ok," Jane said dismissively.

Kaoru blinked in surprise.

"You don't care?" Kaoru asked.

"Nah, not really… So, Haruhi, you look like you could use a dip in the tub, shall I wash your back?" Jane asked brightly.

Haruhi just stared in the direction of Jane's deep voice. "Who are you anyway?"

Jane was taken aback, wounded, stunned. She must've gotten confused somewhere along the way, he was using an alias now, his balls had finally dropped (but of course, she couldn't really see that, it was just an audible difference), he was taller… maybe she really didn't know who he was now. He had changed. In fact, he was acting a lot more like the twins used to, rather than his sweet, cherub self.

"Wait… are you serious?" Jane asked.

"Yeah… Have we met?" Haruhi asked.

The twins snickered. Jane's face turned an awful shade of red. Mori crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Haruhi leaned forward and placed her elbows on the tabletop, staring hard in Jane's general direction.

"Haru-chan, uh, hello, I'm Jane."

"Aren't you male?"

"Duh."

"Jane's a girl's name," Mori said.

And it was in that small moment that Jane's universe shattered. His jaw dropped wide. And all he could really do in that moment was stare at the two people across the table from him. His Takashi, his Haru-chan, both accusing him of impersonating a woman.

"… It's me, Haninozuka."

That's when Haruhi's world brightened. "HONEY-SENPAI!?"

"You really didn't know it was me?" Jane asked.

"Well, no, you said your name was Jane," Haruhi said.

"And she isn't wearing glasses," Hikaru added with a little grin.

So the evening proceeded, in fact, it proceeded so quickly that it was rather late by the time this little exchange was finished. And Haruhi finally did decide that taking a nice long bath would be good for her, so she went off to do that, and nobody disturbed her, which was pretty amazing. Mori went off to the living room to do whatever it is that Mori's do in places of that sort. Honey moseyed off down the hall to his room and promptly fell asleep atop his bed.

Thus, the twins were left alone at the kitchen table. Just the two of them. And they were avoiding looking at each other. Neither of them made any move to leave, their eyes glancing at each other for split-seconds at a time.

"So… How's your dress coming along?" Kaoru asked.

"Oh, you saw it?"

"Yeah, it's looking good…"

"Thanks. It's only the trial stage."

"Yeah, I was wondering. Something about it… didn't feel quite finished."

"Yeah…" Hikaru said.

A short silence ensued before Kaoru sighed and faced Hikaru dead on, their amber eyes locking. "Hikaru… don't you think we're a little old for these kind of quarrels now?"

Hikaru's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. "That's what I thought, but that was before I knew you were dumb enough to date someone like Grell."

Kaoru sucked in a harsh breath, it took all his willpower to not snap at his twin.

"Seriously Kaoru… Just, what are you thinking?" Hikaru asked, looking down at the tabletop, the anger in him seeming to drain out, replaced with something much more demur.

Kaoru said, "I'm happy. I like this guy, and I'd like your support, if you can give it."

"How can I do that when I know this guy isn't good enough for you?" Hikaru looked up, looking rather pathetic.

"You don't even know him."

"I know enough."

"You know his stage persona."

"I can't support you; just let me worry about you until I can."

"… So… you're not going to tell me to stop dating him then?"

Hikaru took a deep breath, his eyes looking down at his hand resting on the table.

"I never said that… But I'll try to ignore it," Hikaru sighed.

"Ignore… the fact that I'm gay?"

"Kaoru," Hikaru rolled his eyes. "The fact that I don't like your boyfriend…"

"Ok," Kaoru said, feeling a smile creep up on him.

"You made me say something embarrassing," Hikaru said, crossing his arms.

"It's about time," Kaoru responded, his slight smile turning into a full-fledged grin as he leaned back into his chair, relaxed. "You were always embarrassing me in front of everyone," he finished with a smirk.

"That was my job," Hikaru said, smiling softly at his brother.

...

The unfortunate thing about the whole situation was the fact that they were both mourning the same person. True, she wasn't dead, just unattainable, which was possibly just as painful.

Kyoya was at the wheel. They'd left the lovely little hookah lounge and the nice Josef behind once the place had started getting busy and Josef was no longer able to converse with them. Tamaki seemed quite taken with the strange-haired young man, and Kyoya hadn't grown exactly comfortable with him, but he didn't dislike him. So that was something, a small something though it may have been.

They were quiet in the car, the two friends. But it wasn't uncomfortable, a little odd maybe, considering one of the friends was Tamaki. But Kyoya wasn't against small silences, in fact, he rather liked them. When he wasn't thinking of disturbing things, and right now he was only reflecting on the nice little time he'd had with the Josef guy and his Tamaki. … He probably shouldn't refer to Tamaki as his; that could cause mental problems… If it wasn't already.

"So… what happened in Japan?" Tamaki eventually asked.

Kyoya took a deep breath before he spoke, "I went to my brothers' wake. And I was disowned." It was so simply put.

"Disowned?" Tamaki said, he wasn't particularly loud with his reply, which Kyoya appreciated, just sounding extremely puzzled.

"It's not like it was that big of a deal. The only reason I was remaining under his name was in hopes of taking over the company. My company is growing just as rampant, just in a different part of the world. It would've been troublesome to run two successful companies at once," Kyoya explained calmly.

"He offered you the company?" Tamaki asked.

Kyoya only nodded.

"And you didn't take it?" Tamaki was obviously befuddled.

Just as Tamaki had asked his questions, Kyoya had pulled through the front entrance of the parking-garage. He didn't respond until he found his typical parking space. He turned off the engine, unbuckled then looked over at his chestnut-headed friend. He stared at Tamaki's hair for several seconds before snarling. "Bakayarou…" Probably the first thing he'd said in Japanese since he'd come back.

"HEY!" Tamaki yelled indignantly, not appreciating the insult.

Kyoya didn't respond, he opened his door and got out. He walked away, but slow enough that he wouldn't leave Tamaki completely behind. It didn't help much though, seeing as how Tamaki's sudden wishes at being abrupt slowed his ability to unbuckle himself and leave the car. Kyoya was nearly to the door leading into apartments when Tamaki finally made his way out of the vehicle.

"Kyoya!" Tamaki shrieked after his friend.

By the swift sounds of Tamaki's shoes slapping against the ground, it was obvious that he was at least jogging.

Kyoya didn't stop. His hand reached for the door handle, but just as he began to open the door, Tamaki grabbed him by the wrist. Kyoya found it impossible not to react to the sudden contact, his eyes went wide in surprise and, much to his chagrin, a smallish gasp escaped him. Tamaki's hold on him was sloppy, it would've been an easy thing to pull away from him, that is, if Kyoya hadn't been so off balance and so terribly surprised by the whole situation. So surprised he had no intention of catching himself from falling over.

Tamaki seemed to have noticed though, because he didn't let Kyoya fall, he caught his friend by the shoulders and held him steady so he could look up into his friend's dark eyes.

Tamaki whispered, "Kyoya."

And Kyoya's eyes met Tamaki's.

"What's wrong with you? Something is wrong, right? Let me fix it; I can't lose you too," Tamaki was becoming more and more frantic it seemed. His eyes were wide, pleading at Kyoya's, until he finally looked away, down at his feet. "I've really lost her, haven't I? She's done with me. Kyoya…"

Well, he couldn't just let Tamaki stand there, feeling terrible, all by himself. He couldn't think of an answer that wouldn't hurt Tamaki either. So he did exactly what he would regret, probably. He wasn't quite sure. He put his arms around Tamaki and pulled him softly to his chest.

"Well," Kyoya said, his voice as cold as it always was. "She doesn't hate you, I think." It wasn't the most reassuring thing he had said, but he was so mixed up, he couldn't come up with something better that wasn't a lie.

Tamaki didn't pull away, he stayed close to his friend. Kyoya swallowed when he felt Tamaki's arms wrap around him as well, not so gently.

Kyoya had never really… hugged Tamaki before.

"And how do you feel?" Tamaki asked. "You don't hate me either?"

"I…" He wasn't sure how to respond. "Don't hate you."

Kyoya could feel Tamaki's chest rise and deflate dramatically as he let out a loud sigh of relief. "Arigatou."

Kyoya decided, in that moment, when Tamaki still didn't let go, that he needed to get away. This feeling was too familiar.

"We should go in-"

"Not yet," Tamaki interrupted.

Kyoya wouldn't have had it, if it wasn't for the softness in Tamaki's voice, revealing just how full of grief he was. So he didn't get away just yet. He decided to stay there, for a bit longer.

…

"Well, that was a little dramatic," said the red-haired fiend a few minutes after that strange Ciel boy had leapt right out the window.

"It was rather," Sebastian said pleasantly. "About that name."

"I still think William took it," Grell said.

"If that's what you think, then why are you still here?" Sebastian asked, crossing his arms.

"If he didn't take it though… and I admit I lost it," Grell began.

"Then you'll retire as a reaper and be repositioned to human status. Then you can live and die just like those pitiful souls you review," Sebastian finished.

Grell blinked several times, as if he'd only just now realized the truth of Sebastian's words. "Human status…"

Sebastian had been so flippant just a moment ago, but as those words were whispered through Grell's lips, Sebastian's gaze became serious and was fixed upon Grell.

"Did you plan this?" Sebastian asked, his voice sounding nearly venomous.

Grell's eyes shot to the fuming man. "What? Plan?"

"Do you really want to be with that mortal brat so badly that you'd be willing to become one as well?"

"Oh, surely I wouldn't be a brat," Grell crooned.

"I'm being serious."

"I am too!" Grell whined.

Sebastian sighed in frustration. He wasn't entirely sure why the thought of Grell wishing to be human made him so mad. He also knew that it probably had something to do with Grell picking a human over him, but you know… Grell chose a human over Sebastian. How ludicrous.

Sebastian glared at his ex-friend, his eyes beginning to glow.

"Bassy? What's the matter?" Grell asked, pressing his index finger to the side of his mouth.

"You'd rather live a human lifespan, with a human, than... an eternity with me?" Sebastian asked. "The one you chased for hundreds of years?"

"Well, if you put it that way, it does seem pretty odd doesn't it?" Grell chuckled. He sounded different again, his voice wasn't as… Grell-like.

"Damn it Grell, stop toying with me!" Sebastian roared, quite unlike himself, baring his teeth in anger.

Grell's amusement faded away until he was just looking, watching Sebastian as if he pitied him. "You're not quite yourself. I loved someone else," Grell said softly, his smile reappearing; a sad little smile. "Goodnight then," and Grell turned and headed for the door.

He was nearly home free, his hand on the doorknob, twisting, a ray of light seeping out onto the front porch, but it was abruptly slammed shut. Air moved through Grell's hair as some presence stopped behind him. Grell looked up at the hand placed on the door, porcelain white with onyx nails, a black pentagram etched into the pale skin.

"I've already let you go once… It's your mistake for coming back," Sebastian's voice was low, his words close. Grell could feel Sebastian's breath on the back of his neck. He felt the soft brush of his hair moving, then the press of heated lips on the skin just behind his earlobe.

Grell wasn't sure how to respond at first. He stood there, his eyes still tracing the star on Sebastian's skin as he felt shivers run across his own. Shivers that were in no way unpleasant.

His mind began to race. Sebastian had been right. How long had he been chasing, how long had he wanted this? But… there was Kaoru, the first human he'd ever wanted to know. He was the first human he'd wanted to make memories with rather than view the accumulation of them played out in a fast reel. Grell realized that he'd never be able to make that a reality if he responded to Sebastian in the way he'd wanted to, for so long. Finally, he had Sebastian wanting him, but he couldn't bring himself to betray Kaoru.

He'd been thinking for too long.

He felt Sebastian's arm wrap around the entirety of his waist, pulling his back flush with Sebastian's torso. There was nothing soft about him. Grell finally leapt into action, his hands gripping Sebastian's forearm.

"Come on… Bassy… let me go."

"I don't think you mean that," Sebastian replied, against Grell's skin before biting gently on the pale flesh.

Sebastian's arm that held Grell's waist moved, ever so slightly, his hand beginning a slow assent up Grell's shirt.

"Sebastian… please, I mean it," Grell continued to struggle, but Sebastian was a pure demon, Grell a reaper, and Sebastian was strong and determined.

Regardless, with Grell's words, Sebastian did pause. One hand rested on Grell's sternum while the other held its place on the front door. Grell could feel Sebastian's lips, now pressed at the back of his jaw, begin to stretch in a smile. "Liar," Sebastian growled.

With one swift movement, Sebastian managed to spin Grell around, pushing the other's back against the door. The doorframe rattled. And Grell caught a quick glimpse of Sebastian's smirk before those lips smothered his own. He didn't want to admit it, but those lips on his, they felt so good. He was stunned for a moment, unable to move of his own accord, his knees went embarrassingly weak, and if Sebastian hadn't already been pressing him against the door, he would've slammed into Sebastian himself. It wouldn't have mattered. Sebastian wasted no time, no space, his body molding against Grell's instinctively… that felt good too.

Grell pushed against Sebastian's chest, trying to gain some space between them. But Sebastian only responded to his pushing with more passionate desperation. It wasn't entirely forceful, in fact, the only forceful thing about it was the pressure of Sebastian's body pressing Grell against the door… Then again Grell could have been putting up much more of a fight than he was. Sebastian seemed to notice this, but instead of mocking his late-lover, he took advantage of it.

Sebastian's lips parted from Grell's, their eyes locking. It made Grell freeze to his very core. In no time, Sebastian had bent slightly at the knees, his hands gliding down past Grell's hips, down his thighs, before he grabbed him, hoisting him up to wrap his long legs around Sebastian's own hips.

"Uh… Sebastian…"

"Hush, love…"

Sebastian's eyes squinted in a tentative smile, just before he softly pressed his lips to Grell's in an ephemeral kiss. He pulled away slightly, so he could look into Grell's eyes, and they were just as he wanted them to look, heavy-lidded, intoxicated. And seeing that, it made him feel...

He brought his lips to Grell's neck, to his collarbone. The hands on Sebastian's chest, glided up, until they tangled with soft, inky locks. And the sounds he was making, such desperately beautiful breaths, hardly contained gasps, Sebastian wished he would quit hiding, he didn't need to.

Sebastian held Grell steady as he moved them away from the front door. He took his time, leisurely walking towards the back hallway, his mouth occupied all the while. Once they finally made it to Sebastian's room however, his lips parted from Grell's skin as he laid his captive gently down. When he crawled on the bed after him, he removed his own shirt, his eyes never straying from Grell's as he moved to hover above the uncertain other.

Sebastian's hand went under the hem of Grell's shirt, pushing the fabric up as far as it would go without being completely removed. He moved up to take possession of Grell's lips once again, his hand moving to grab at Grell's firm waist. There wasn't much soft about Grell either. Then Sebastian slid his fingers stealthily down, two fingers slipping past the hem of Grell's pants, applying slight pressure to the sensitive skin next to his hip-bone; Grell flinched, his head dipping away from Sebastian's, breaking the kiss, and causing Sebastian to pause.

"What?" Sebastian asked gently, his hand not seeming to follow the rest of him as it slid ever so slightly further down, getting caught on the rim of Grell's pants.

Grell shook his head, his Adam's apple bobbing in a visible swallow. He closed his eyes, thinking that maybe if he weren't looking at the man above him, he'd be able to gather his thoughts. But Sebastian's lips placed soft kisses on Grell's eyelids, on his forehead, perhaps trying to smooth out the worried lines there.

Sebastian let their torsos touch, cool against warm skin, slid his hand back up Grell's side, feeling the dips of the other's ribs heating the tips of his chill fingers. His lips landed indulgently back on Grell's, prodding them softly open, his tongue delving past them to toy with the other's. All of what Sebastian was doing was gentle, his touches fond; he breathed as if, before, he'd been drowning.

Grell didn't have the resolve to stop him, but he couldn't banish the sinking feeling in his gut. The one that caused his chest to tighten and his breaths to become a troublesome thing; the helpless feeling that comes just before a uselessly suppressed sob. Luckily, it happened after Sebastian moved on from Grell's mouth, onto Grell's neck, so Sebastian couldn't see the awful face Grell was sure he was making. And in the end, Grell was able to disguise the noise as more of a hitching of the breath, and Sebastian didn't even look up from his tender ministrations.

There were many things keeping Grell from stopping Sebastian. One was that this was something Grell had wanted, something he'd wanted for an immeasurable amount of time, another was that he knew that Sebastian was sincere for once and it wasn't even a dream. Another reason was that it was nice, even though he didn't want it to be, it felt good to be here, wanted and adored, precious. He was torn. Tearing. Every small part of him that Sebastian deemed to kiss, ripped; it was as if he could feel his edges fraying. Sebastian was inadvertently pulling him apart.

Another constriction of the chest, a soft sob as Sebastian placed lingering kisses on Grell's waist, continuing down. He'd become so stealthy, and unbuttoned Grell's pants without the other noticing, until he was taking them off. Then the pants were across the room and so was the fabric under them, but it didn't matter, because soon enough, Sebastian covered what had been previously revealed. Warmth flooded Grell's body and he couldn't hold back the painful cry that ripped past his lips. It didn't hurt, but his heart, it ripped down the middle. He was completely and utterly torn.

Sebastian finally looked up, just in time to see the first tears streak down Grell's cheeks.

Sebastian stops his previous endeavors, his eyes more intent upon Grell's face. He looked away a second later.

"Why…" Sebastian growled against Grell's hip.

Grell pressed his hands against his eyes, trying to make them stop dripping.

Sebastian got slowly off Grell, moved up the bed, then flopped abruptly down on his stomach beside the sobbing mess that was Grell. He placed a long arm around Grell's middle and pulled the man a bit closer, his head turned so he could look upon this person who had so terribly destroyed him. He ached. Deep in his chest he panged with unfiltered hurt. It was a pure sort of agony.

"What terrible fate we have," he whispered to the sobbing Grell. Though the red-head's sobs were a little less violent now, a little more calmed.

"I'm sorry," Grell whimpered.

"Don't be. It's not your fault," Sebastian sighed.

It was over. Him and Grell. They never should've been together to begin with. All of it, the growth and accumulation of feelings, it was all a giant mistake. He closed his eyes briefly, breathing out his nose in a slow exhale. He pressed his face into the pillow, then spoke, knowing his words were muffled, but knew Grell would hear them anyway.

"Whenever you're ready," he spoke calmly into the pillow. "You can go. I promise not to do this again."

A piece of him broke when Grell's slightly wet fingers brushed at his hair.

"Thank you."

That was all Grell said.


	27. Pleasantly Nice

On to another day!

…

Undies was worried to say the least. Not that worried, but it had been a day since Grell had come out of his room - located on the second floor of the flower shop for the time being.

Undies had just made his final sale of the day and was now closing up shop; true, it wasn't exactly 'ungodly hours' yet, but still. He'd been bustling about the freezer way too long to feel quite alive enough to continue working. Plus, he'd made quite a profit. He was just flipping the sign when he heard a rather unpleasant commotion on the stairs and hurried back to see what had happened.

There was Grell, sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, looking very… sprawled. And possibly hurt. But nothing a little salt couldn't fix.

Undies wasn't exactly sure why Grell had fallen down the stairs. He'd never done that before, and it didn't look very enjoyable. There was no conceivable explanation for Grell's sprawled and miserable state… unless…

"Did something happen between you and Sebastian?" Undies giggled, because it couldn't be true, but then… Grell looked up at Undies, complete and unguarded misery displayed in his yellow-green eyes. "Oh, hit it right on the head, didn't I?" Undies chortled.

The Undertaker went over to his plethora of jars filled with various crystalized substances, some minerals to mix with dirt, some to sprinkle over the flowers to keep them fresh longer –they weren't entirely of this world you see. His hand hovered above the many jars.

"You could definitely say that…" Grell began, brushing off his front as he stood up.

Undies' hand finally halted over something. "AH!" he gasped as his hand grabbed the jar it had stopped over, as if he didn't expect to find what he had located there.

Grell watched, expecting Undies to pull out some sort of colorful, majestic looking jar… but he didn't. It was a jam jar, full of white crystals that looked distinctly like sugar or possibly salt… in fact, it even had a label. It read: Salt. And just under it, in presumably smaller script, was: and something else.

The red-haired man wondered for a moment what that something else could be, but figured it was probably better to be left in the dark with such matters. You could never tell, with Undies, if it was safe to know his various little ticks and secrets. Arguably, it was hardly ever good to know such things, but sometimes Grell just couldn't help himself.

"What else is in that jar?" Grell asked in an entirely pleasant way.

"That," Undies said, twisting the jar open. "Is none of your damn business!" he sing-songed as his hand delved into the jar, he then flung the generous handful of salt right a Grell, making a delighted sound all the while. Sadly, for Undies, he didn't realize how deep he had dug his hand into the jar. Quite deep in fact, because along with the salt, something else was flung: a perfectly rectangular slip of paper.

The little piece of paper fluttered gently down through the air, and landed right in front of Grell. The slip of paper had a name scrawled on it, in slanted script, in black ink. Grell bent down and picked it up, reading the name, his eyes widening and his mouth going instantly dry with terrible realization. This wasn't good. This was awful. It couldn't possibly be true.

This wasn't the slip of paper he'd lost. True, it was obviously the same enchanted vellum of that damned book, but this wasn't it. It couldn't possibly be it. There was no way.

"Shit," Undies whispered.

Grell looked up just in time to see Undies' wind up, and had just the barest moment of time to duck as the Undertaker threw his precious jar of immaculate salt right at Grell's head. Needless to say, Grell was just barely able to dodge the jar, but the salt rained down on both of them, leaving them both lightly dusted and sparkling in the dim light.

Undies flew forward and snatched the name from Grell's limp grasp.

But it was too late. He'd seen it. He'd read the name.

Fujioka, Haruhi.

"Why do you have that?" Grell asked, his voice shaking despite his efforts of keeping it normal.

Undies shoved the paper deep into his pants' pocket. He looked up at Grell with his fierce green eyes and said: "Because I took it."

The two of them stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

"Well," Grell began. "I really wish you hadn't thrown it at me."

"Me too," Undies admitted. "I wasted so much salt."

"I meant the name," Grell said.

"That too," Undies said.

"Now I'm bound to this assignment."

"You can't."

"I can't not, I have to do it now. There's no way out of it," Grell said, he kept getting more slumped.

"Doesn't not doing an assignment have the same punishment as losing one?"

Grell stared for a long moment. "I had to find it."

Undies eyes seemed suddenly calculative as he looked at Grell, really looked at him. "What would your Kaoru do if you took his beloved friend?" His voice was cruel, he wanted Grell to ache.

Although Grell wasn't exactly sure how Undies knew about Kaoru and him, he was lead to not dwell upon it for very long. Undies knew about it, that's all that mattered. And that scared him.

"What are you insinuating?" Grell asked.

"I'm lacking teeth," the Undertaker said, looking away from Grell and examining his pristinely painted black nails.

"Teeth?" Grell asked, his brows pulling together.

"A full set would be nice, not to mention I'm always trying to get my hands on fresh bones. Bone powder does wonders for plants, you know," Undies made a point of not looking at Grell, of staring fixedly at his many jars.

"You aren't serious," Grell was wide eyed with disbelief.

"It's easy to tell when I'm joking," Undies spoke softly.

The Undertaker finally met Grell's eyes again, a severe calm permeating in his sharp gaze. Grell recovered from his wide-eyed shock, and it quickly turned to a mean-yellow glare. The air around them turned infinitely tenser, but neither knew exactly what to do next.

"Why're you doing this?" Grell asked.

Neither of the men were acting quite like themselves.

"I won't let you hurt that girl," Undies said, fierce.

"You know I have no power over the fact that she's dying," Grell said, exasperated.

"She's not dying," Undies' response was firm, final.

"Care to explain why her name happened to be in the book then?"

"It's obviously a mistake."

Grell didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to say, all he really knew was that this wasn't a good situation to be in. And he really needed to find Kaoru and keep him in his sights. If the Undertaker was serious about those threats, he couldn't let Kaoru be alone.

There was also the Haruhi problem. How could he keep such a thing secret?

"Well, whatever this is… You have to put the name back. If William finds out it was you… it won't be good," Grell said lamely.

"He won't find out," Undies spoke with utmost confidence. "And Haruhi won't die."

"Whatever, I have to go. I have a date," Grell decided promptly and headed to the flower-shop's front door.

He was out in the weak light of twilight before Undies could say anything else. He practically sprinted to where his car was parked and was speeding away, to save his lovely little red head, in no time.

Back in the flower shop, Undies slipped the small bit of now crumpled paper out of his pocket. He held it between his two hands, then slowly ripped it in half. After that first precise rip, he shredded it completely, tossing the remnants every which way until the floor wasn't just graced with sparkling grains of salt, but also the tattered pieces of dear Haruhi's name.

That was that.

He shuffled off to get the broom.

…

They were just finishing up the nice meal Mori had made. Now that the twins were getting along and Honey was back for a while, it seemed a perfect time to make something quite festive. And that's exactly what Mori had done, right down to the glasses of red wine. Festive indeed.

Kyoya and Tamaki had shown up at about the time Mori began cooking. They had acted – well, Kyoya had acted – quite weird when they'd come inside. He wouldn't even meet Mori's steady gaze, not that the two of them were especially close, but he basically hadn't even acknowledged Mori's existence. It wasn't like Kyoya, who made it his business to notice everything. But Mori didn't say anything about it. He knew that something must have been heavily weighing on Kyoya's mind and when it came to thinking in the quietness of one's own mind, nobody could understand better than Mori.

Everyone was still at the table exchanging spoken pleasantries and such, that is, until there was a heavy knock on the front door. The conversation took an abrupt standstill, all heads turning in the direction of the front door before everyone eyed each other curiously.

"Did someone invite somebody?" Hikaru asked whoever it was that would answer him first.

Everyone shrugged.

"I'll get it!" Tamaki declared willingly.

He slid his chair backwards across the tiled floor, gaining a loud screech that caused everyone to cringe before Tamaki began his inevitable bound to the front door.

No one interrupted the silence. They all waited and listened, curious as to whom it could possibly be. They heard the front door open. They heard Tamaki's voice. "Hello, what can I do for you?!" there was a slight pause before another voice was heard. "Can I come in?" Kaoru paled before shooting his gaze to his brother. "I'm here to see Kaoru." All eyes turned to the younger twin who seemed to shrink with every passing second, his cheeks as red has his hair.

Haruhi smiled slyly. "Moving a little fast, aren't you Kaoru?"

"Come on in! We just finished eating," Tamaki said in his most pleasant hosting voice.

So Grell and Tamaki walked into the kitchen, the blond smiling and the red-haired man looking rather serious.

At first, no one reacted outwardly, they were all processing how different Grell looked now from his past in The Butler. He looked much more like a 'he' now, his hair short, his clothes, a black t-shirt with an unbuttoned, maroon vest and black skinny jeans. Even Hikaru was surprised. And regardless of the fact that Kaoru was nervous about what all his friends were thinking, his face instantly brightened the moment his eyes were set upon his boyfriend.

A slight hint of guilt washed over Grell's face as he saw his favorite man, but it was gone just as soon as it had arrived. No one seemed to notice.

"Have you forgotten all your manners that I taught you?! Silence is no way to welcome a guest!" Tamaki bellowed indignantly!

Kaoru cleared his throat before rising from his chair and making his way to his lover's side to properly introduce him, even though everyone already knew who he was. He might as well play along.

"Everyone," Kaoru began. "This is Grell, my boyfriend."

And with that little spiel, Tamaki promptly gasped and looked frantically around at all of the other hosts to see their reactions. When he realized he was the only one even a smidgen surprised, he made an effort to close his gaping mouth, but to no avail. It seemed to be stuck.

"Having a problem, are you?" Grell asked Tamaki. "Allow me to assist!" and the fiery red head whacked Tamaki's jaw back into place.

"Would you like something to eat, we have some left over," Haruhi asked from her spot at the table.

Grell looked at the small woman, his gaze seeming somewhat regretful. Kaoru did notice this. He watched Grell questioningly.

"No thank you, I'm quite alright, I'd just like to borrow this one for a moment," Grell replied before wrapping his arm around Kaoru's shoulders.

"Of course," Kyoya responded, his first words of the evening. Aside from Mori, no one had really noticed Kyoya's silence, until now.

Grell smiled in thanks before the pair turned. Grell lead his love towards the front door.

"Am I the only one who was unaware of Kaoru's gay-ness?" Tamaki asked as the front door closed.

Everyone stared at him absently, everyone but Haruhi.

"Yes," Everyone said in unison. Everyone but Haruhi.

…

Grell took Kaoru out to a nice little café, that late evening, for some nice dessert and some nice coffee. They sat opposite each other, the few bites of their dessert left crumbling on their plates, their coffees still steaming blithely. At present, there was a rather awkward silence pervading their little date, the silence interrupted irregularly by the sounds of the espresso machine and the like.

Until, that is, Kaoru couldn't really stand it anymore.

"It's ok that they know, right?" he asked.

Grell looked up from his crumbs, both of his eyebrows raised. "Hm?" he hummed, but then… "Oh, oh yes, that's fine, wonderful in fact. Just grand!" he was perhaps a bit too enthusiastic.

"Ok… good," Kaoru said back sheepishly, his eyes downcast.

This was new, Kaoru had always been a bit more reserved than Grell was used to, but this silence was different.

"Is everything alright, Kaoru?"

Kaoru looked up at that, his expression unnerved.

"With me? Yes, of course, but what about you? You made quite the entrance…" Kaoru explained, his eyes slowly drifting away from his lover once again.

"Did I make you upset?"

"No it's not that… You just… it made me feel a little nervous."

A small, understanding smile played at Grell's lips, his eyebrows pulling gently together as he watched Kaoru and his unease. When they had first started dating, it took a while before Grell became aware of the fact that, contrary to popular belief, Kaoru was rather self-conscious.

"Why?" Grell asked, still smiling, beginning to sit back in his chair. He had a reason for bringing Kaoru out, but it could wait. At the moment he just wanted to hear Kaoru speak.

Kaoru looked up, frowning. "I'm not one of your patients Grell," he said this sarcastically, his voice amused, a smile soon following suit.

"Let's pretend. We can even play doctor later!" Grell said with a smirk as he watched that lovely shade of pink dust across Kaoru's face.

Kaoru sighed, running his hands through his hair, sitting back. "Oh, I don't know," he said, trying to drop the subject. Grell wouldn't have it.

"No, you have to tell me."

"Why?"

"Many reasons! One is that we're pretending I'm your psychiatrist, two is that I want to know, and three is because I love you and I want to fix anything I've done wrong."

Kaoru paused, a deer caught in the headlights. Grell smiled. The L word… that was new.

"I was nervous because I wasn't sure why you came so suddenly and so unannounced… I thought maybe you wanted to break up with me or something…" this new dodgy attitude Kaoru was expressing was also new. Grell felt like he should be the one to feel dodgy.

"No, that's not the reason," Grell's voice had grown considerably more serious with just those few words. It caused Kaoru to look at him questioningly; relief was also noted.

"What was your reason then?" Kaoru asked and Grell didn't respond immediately; his eyes fell to the table top in front of him as he fiddled his fingers in his lap. How was he supposed to tell Kaoru that he nearly cheated on him? That he allowed another man to touch him to a certain extent even? The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Kaoru, not to mention the fact that he hated the thought of them breaking up.

"Grell, what is it?" Kaoru pushed on, getting anxious. Grell wasn't one to just stop talking. Typically it was a wonder if he ever decided to shut up.

After a few more moments, Grell's eyes rose, a soft smile spreading across his sweet face. "I thought we were due for a date and I've wanted to meet your friends for a while. I don't want to sneak around. Plus, I thought you might like to see my new apartment."

The devilish smile that appeared on Grell's lips caused Kaoru's cheeks to flush.

"That's all? You made it seem a lot more serious than that."

It was going to be.

"Oh, believe me, there's so much more," his voice drenched with innuendo, just enough to cover up the truth of what else lied under the surface, what he had wanted to tell Kaoru about.

I didn't really cheat on him, I still love him. I don't need to tell him… right?

…

Haruhi had escaped the awkward air that pervaded the kitchen after Kaoru had been strangely whisked away, and she had taken sanctuary in her own room. At present, she was sitting beside her bed, with books and notes and a dictionary all in front of her; an unfortunately less-than-colorful rainbow of knowledge she needed to cram into her skull before Monday. It seemed a slightly impossible feat at this point, considering her brain was somewhere else and not at all focused on the papers in front of her. Her brain was quite distracted by the little episode that had happened that other morning.

Mori and her had somehow ended up sleeping in the same bed. Her bed. Which was right behind her and still unmade and probably still smelled like Mori – because she hadn't really slept in it last night… the couch had been comfortable though. She was blushing just thinking about it, and there was no way she could look at those rumpled covers without having some sort of embarrassing bodily reaction. Obviously hormonal, it had to be hormones messing with her thoughts; how annoying. She didn't have time to be emotionally unstable, what an inconvenience.

She fell back to lean against her bed, then stood abruptly, deciding right then that the only way to remedy her perturbed thoughts was to get rid of the evidence… and maybe get some rice, not maybe, actually: definitely. She stripped the bed of its sheets and blanket, and stripped the pillows of their cases, then she marched out into the hall, carrying her mountain of bedding. After she'd dumped them in the wash, she went to the kitchen to reward herself with some nice, fluffy rice. White and fluffy, like a cloud, contained in a sky-blue bowl, and eaten with a silver spoon… much longer than it needed to be. The fact was, she preferred tea spoons to regular spoons. That was an incredibly important fact, obviously… don't forget it.

She sat down at the kitchen table, the ceramic bowl making a soft clank as it hit the table's top. She bowed her head gently. "Itadakimasu," she said softly before digging into her mound of white stuff.

She chewed slowly, and with that being the only sound that occupied the lonely kitchen, it wasn't helping her forget her thoughts. She could envision Mori sitting where he had been earlier, across from her now, his hair disheveled yet attractive. He was really attractive, that guy. She wondered idly, while shoving more rice into her mouth, why it had taken so long for this strange attraction to… really go anywhere between them. It was probably Tamaki's fault. Most things were nowadays.

She sat her spoon down, still chewing. She felt suddenly ashamed. Not everything was Tamaki's fault. She didn't like thinking that way.

She got up from the table, her bowl still more than halfway full. She dumped the leftover rice back into the cooker, where the rice for the day was stowed. She cleaned her bowl and spoon before drying then putting them away. Her hand remained on the cupboard door after it had been closed. She just stood there.

She stood there for several moments, then finally turned, with a sigh, and abruptly stopped when she saw someone leaning against the doorjamb. Mori looked tired, to say the least. He was wearing his standard pajamas, his black sweats and white cotton t-shirt – commoner clothes, would be Tamaki's esteemed label. He looked comfy and ready to flop into bed. It was a little unnerving for Haruhi, who was still currently trying to process her strange thoughts about him; she was just glad she hadn't done anything weird while he was standing there watching.

"You alright?" Mori asked.

Haruhi just stared at him for a moment, trying to guess what it was he could be referring to. If he knew what she was thinking, if he knew she hadn't been able to study because of him.

"You didn't finish your rice," Mori clarified.

So that's what he was referring to.

"I'm just not hungry," was her simple response.

"You're always hungry."

"Well, not tonight," she said before trying to walk past him, her eyes downcast.

"Haruhi," he said, stopping her by putting his arm out, his hand curving to the dip above her hip.

Her eyes widened the slightest bit as she felt her heart jump into her throat.

"Nothing happened," he assured her. "Really…"

She looked up at him and swallowed hard. "And nothing was going to, I know," she said, maybe harsher than she meant.

He didn't let her go, but he did look away for a moment.

Haruhi removed his hand from her side and brushed past him, heading for her room.

"Haruhi," Mori called after her. "Go on a date with me?" he asked, quiet and unsure.

She had to turn to look at him, and the softness in his eyes was a hammer to her heart.

"Sure," she said.

"Tomorrow, I'll pick you up from class," Mori said, hopeful.

"Ok," Haruhi said, and continued on to her room, feeling suddenly lighter and fluttery on the inside.

She didn't see Mori shuffle into the living room and flop onto the couch, sighing as a small smile curved his lips.

…

He had gotten quite tired of being in the apartment. There was too much to think about, too many things plaguing his thoughts all at once, and they were regrettably out of alcohol. Though, perhaps the most unfortunate thing about the evening had been the fact that the walls weren't very sound proof.

Mori's little question had reached his ears when he'd been unfortunate enough to have to use the restroom, the one just down the hall from the kitchen and living room. He'd walked out just in time to watch Haruhi disappear into her room, and take a glance into the living room, spying a disgustingly happy Mori flop onto the couch. It was all very disheartening.

So back to the lack of alcohol, he'd left the apartment in search of some. It didn't take long to find it either. He had considered going to his burlesque club, but he later decided against it. He wanted a calm atmosphere, one where he could be alone and undisturbed. He didn't want to talk to anyone he knew.

So he went to that one street where the little hookah lounge had been, he'd driven by quite a few bars on his way there. He ended up parking in some public parking garage thing, then walked down the slightly crowded sidewalk until he came upon the first club. It was called The Breaded Vulture. Weird.

Tonight, there was a live band. When he first walked in, there was a horde of people, dancing. If he went just along the side though, he could make it to the bar, and if he went past the bar, there was a darker place, seemingly empty, full of conveniently hidden little tables. It seemed to be an abandoned corner. And that would obviously be his destination after he'd gotten himself a rather large drink.

As soon as he made it to the bar the music slowed to a softer beat. Kyoya refused to look back, knowing that if he turned around he'd see the horde of pulsing bodies ease into the new pace, their forms pressed together, dancing intimately, like moments before, but in a less desperate way. He would see dancing that was much more affectionate. He'd only danced with someone like that once, and that was years ago. She probably didn't even remember how carefully he'd touched her. How he'd barely touched her at all.

Suddenly, someone came from the back room, holding a large wine bottle and an array of fancy glasses. The bartender and Kyoya both froze when they saw each other.

The bartender was the first to move again. Pale lips curled gently upward; it was a look you give someone you've never met, but wish to be polite. Kyoya stared.

"How may I help you?" the young man asked, as he set the wine bottle atop the bar. "Could I interest you in some of this fine blueberry wine?" Kyoya stared. The man tilted his head in question. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" His eyes flashed red for a split second, before returning to they're copper.

"No. Give me a pint of your house brew," Kyoya said.

"Yes of course, sir," He smiled before turning around getting a large, frozen mug from the sleek freezer. "Shall I start a tab for you?" The man asked, filling the mug to the brim with amber fluids, white decorating the top like a fluffy cloud.

"A tab won't be necessary," Kyoya said, handing over his card.

"Very well," the bartender took the card and set the mug on the counter.

Kyoya took it upon himself in that moment to take a very generous gulp of the amber liquids sitting in front of him. Bitter, just the way he wanted it. He was just about to take another swig when the bartender was suddenly before him again.

He swallowed quickly then asked, "Do you take pleasure in shocking people?"

"I do actually," the young man smiled benignly. "Sign this copy please, and enjoy your evening," he said before turning to the next customer.

Kyoya shoved his copy of the receipt in his pocket and took his drink before turning toward his destination: that dark and abandoned corner. He was hoping the man, the demon, he'd sold his soul to – or rather the remainder of his mortal existence to - would have the decency to leave him alone for the time being.

He sat down, the light sparse in his little nook. The dark atmosphere mirrored his mood completely. He thought to himself as he drank and allowed the toxins into his body, to take their toll and hopefully blur out his misery. He'd wondered lately if he could reverse the deal he'd made, if killing himself before he turned would keep him from having to live a life as long as the earth, while his friends grew old and later left him behind. But he couldn't. He had to go through with his transformation. He had to protect Haruhi… even if he wasn't the one who got to have her in the end.

Then his deep state of contemplation abruptly ended.

"Kyoya!" the now non-purple haired Josef spoke delightedly. "What're you doing in this dark corner? You just look so…" he paused as he sat down, right next to Kyoya. "Tantalizingly mysterious," the guy's smile was completely disarming.

"What did you do to your hair?" Kyoya asked.

"It's sunset!" he was overly excited.

Kyoya lifted an eyebrow as he studied the hair atop Josef's head. It was choppy, rock-starish in its own way, but the most noticeable thing about it was its color. Bright orange, ombre with yellow near to white at the tips, along with wisps of dark purple, royal blue, and magenta coming from his roots. Somehow, Kyoya thought, it didn't even look that trashy and his hair didn't even look damaged. Weird.

"It's pretty… I guess," Kyoya conceded.

"Hmm… Well that's better than I expected from you. At best I thought you'd tell me it looked stupid. You must like me," Josef responded, leaning back in his chair languidly.

Kyoya stared. Josef stared back. The only difference between their expressions was that the left corner of Josef's lips was curved gently upward. He looked feline.

"Why are you here?"

"Why am I here in general or why am I sitting across from you?" Josef asked, smirking happily.

"Both," Kyoya responded, his face never changing. As he waited for a response he took a large, manly, manly, manly swig. Emphasis on manly.

Josef sighed, but not in a bored way, he seemed rather pleased in fact. "I'm honored that you're so interested in me," his voice was sarcastic. "My favorite man is playing in the band over there, the drums," he said, motioning his head towards the band.

Kyoya looked over, away from his secluded corner of the world. In the back of the band sat a drum set and beside that was a man with black hair styled in a messy fohawk, Kyoya also noticed he happened to be wearing rather ratty looking sandals, before the man finally sat down behind his drums. He was one of those rare people that, when you look at his feet, you aren't completely disgusted. They could be categorized under "nice feet", even though, everyone knows, feet are never actually nice (unless they're Taine's).

"And I'm sitting across from you, because Oz is preoccupied… and you aren't," somehow, the smile he added at the end seemed completely genuine.

"What gives you the notion that I wasn't preoccupied?" Kyoya asked. He wasn't even sure why he was still talking to this man.

"Instinct," Josef said pleasantly.

"Hmm," Kyoya hummed before gulping more of his drink. He was going to have to get another one soon. Maybe he should've started a tab.

"So what brought you here, Kyoya, and alone. The only person I know who comes to bars all alone and depressing like is Taine, and I don't even know him," Josef said.

Kyoya stared. "Are you drunk?"

"Me? Oh no, I don't touch the stuff," Josef responds, winking.

Kyoya took in a deep breath, trying to calm his annoyance. "Well, that's why I'm here, to get drunk, so unless you'd like to join me, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave."

Josef raised a mischievous eyebrow, his smirk making yet another appearance. "Join you? You'd let me?"

"It might be better than wallowing in self-pity."

Josef smiled, but not so smirk-like. It was a smile of the kinder sorts.

"In that case, I'll go get us some shots," and the sunset haired guy was off, leaving Kyoya wondering what exactly he was getting himself into.

…

The apartment wasn't at all what Kyoya had expected, though he hadn't had many expectations to begin with; it was just a little stranger than most. The first thing he noticed when walking in was the living room. It was very large, but it wasn't until he got further in that he realized why. An entire wall had been knocked down to make room, the carpet had been taken up to reveal gray concrete underneath, gray concrete that was splattered here and there with every color imaginable. Canvases, paints, brushes, and pallets lined the walls, scattered the floor, a large easel was the only thing that seemed strategically placed. It stood several feet away from a window, one that faced the west. There was also a side table that sat next to the easel, it sat currently empty aside from a jar of clear water, and several brushes lying next to it; they sat evenly spaced, shortest to tallest.

"Would you like some coffee?" Josef asked, not commenting or apologizing for the mess. Kyoya didn't actually care, it was just typically something most American's pretended to be sorry about.

"Sure," Kyoya responded. He figured that, after they got some of their wits about them once again, they'd continue on with the obvious reasons why Josef had brought him here. He had gotten over his nerves, and had finally come to a sort of acceptance with what he figured he was about to experience. Rather than letting his current confusion and curiosity with Tamaki get the better of him, he figured doing this sort of experimentation with someone he didn't actually care about was the better route to go.

Kyoya didn't follow Josef into the kitchen, mainly because he could still see him fine from where he was, seeing as how the wall that had been taken down was the one that led to the kitchen. He took several steps further into the room and began to wonder how Josef had gotten away with completely defacing a rented room. He didn't think about it for long though, because he was soon captivated by the canvases against the walls. Some canvases held watercolors, some were acrylic or oil, but no matter the media, they were all spectacular and fantastical, they were otherworldly, but at the same time, seemed to occupy real-world spaces. They seemed to be an accumulation of warped realities.

One he found particularly strange was a man, a man turned into a marionette. Blood seeped from places that string attached to and a serpentine mass of strings burrowed then ripped through the man's chest, holding his heart out to the viewer.

There was a large mix of paintings. Ranging from happy and childlike, to deathly in their brutality. Even the style of each painting was different. Kyoya wondered if Josef was really the only person who had painted all of these scenes.

"That one," Josef said, motioning to the painting Kyoya had been formerly staring at, his voice had surprised Kyoya, though he did an outstanding job of not showing it. "Is a metaphor," Josef continued, handing Kyoya his steaming mug of coffee. It smelled excellent.

"A metaphor for what?" Kyoya asked, bringing the mug close so he could blow on it absently.

"Fate mostly, also fear. We are tied to so many things in life, it's hard to see what's actually controlling our motives. Are the strings controlling the poor strung up soul? Or is his heart the wielder?" Josef looked contemplative, and Kyoya wondered if he'd actually thought of all this while he'd been painting that picture. It caused him to look at the man he'd only seconds ago realized was an artist. Josef's face, the look he gave his own painting; he'd been thinking of a lot more while he'd been painting than what he just explained.

"Anyway!" Josef declared, breaking the small spell that had been cast upon them by the enthralling picture.

Kyoya took several sips of coffee, testing the flavor. "This is pretty decent, nothing like what most of the commoners around here drink."

Josef laughed pleasantly. "I worked as a barista for a while… we brewed it all ourselves, drip coffee is the only way, of course."

Kyoya nodded in agreement. The atmosphere had no motive. Josef didn't seem to be expecting anything. He just seemed pleased to have company. That seemed to be it.

It seemed that tonight, no experimentation would be made.

…

Monday morning came and went without a hitch. Mori got early breakfast on the table; just enough so he knew it'd all get eaten, and left without saying good morning to anyone. He was always the first to leave.

After his morning classes, which he was finding much more enjoyable since he was actually getting to work with living animals now, he went back to the apartment. He did the dishes, changed his clothes and left with just enough time to be a bit early to pick up Haruhi for their lunch date. It was now that he realized he hadn't stopped smiling the entire morning; he figured that's why everyone kept looking at him quizzically.

Everything was perfect. The day was pleasantly cool, the sun shining happy and yellow with only a few puffy, white clouds to marvel its beauty. He had the wonderful feeling about him that one gets after being productive and an even more lovely feeling that he could safely say he'd never felt with quite this intensity before. He was filled to the brim with anticipation.

He got to the hallway where Haruhi's class was located. They hadn't been let out yet, so he waited. He leaned his back against the wall across from the door, hands in his pockets and waited. Even now, especially now, he couldn't suppress his smile, no matter how hard he tried.

He looked down at his watch. There were only three minutes left until he could see her. Three minutes… three minutes that felt like days.

Three minutes passed and once they did, he still had to wait for all the students to disperse so he could locate his small, hunched over, burdened-down, little woman. It seemed unnatural how excited he was to help carry her bag for her and her mountain of books she couldn't seem to fit into her bag. He hurried to her side so she wouldn't have to hobble over to him.

"Oh, hi," Haruhi said, as if she hadn't noticed him before.

"Hi," Mori said, still grinning as he gently took her books from her arms and held out a hand for her bag. The muscles in his forearm bulged as he balanced her pile of books, and Haruhi couldn't help but notice, and maybe that was the reason why she gave up her bag instead of arguing about it.

"So where're we going?" Haruhi asked after she was able to look away from Mori's bulging arm muscles. Needless to say, Mori was both confused and delighted by the hint of color that had crept up her neck.

"You'll see," said the big man.


	28. Mistakes

He had taken her to a café, not far off campus, nothing too fancy, something that wouldn't make her feel out of place or in any way uncomfortable. The only way he ever wanted her to feel around him was at ease. So far, it seemed to be working pretty well. They both sat comfortably in their chairs, their smiles ever present. They'd gone to cafés together before, but it was never a time categorized as a date.

So that was different.

"So you think you're ready for the finals?" Mori asked, he'd been trying to keep the conversation light, but they'd somehow run out of topics.

"I think so," Haruhi said, smashing the rest of her cheese cake onto the back of her fork, then proceeded to lick it off. "Mori…"

The sudden seriousness of Haruhi's voice and her eyes that looked up at him made Mori suddenly curious. "Yeah?"

"Why did you just decide to ask me out now?" Haruhi asked.

Mori stared at her, his lack of topics turning into a complete lack of words.

"I just figured it was time," Mori said.

"Oh," Haruhi said. "What about-" but before she got the rest of whatever it was she was about to say, Mori had generously shoved a bite of his Banana's Foster in her mouth.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Mori said, when, in truth, he just didn't want to think about how the fact that he was making a move would probably crush most of the other hosts. But when he really thought about it, he decided he shouldn't care. They'd had their chances, he gave them plenty of time, years' worth, and none of them had tried; or at least, not hard enough. It was his turn.

"It doesn't?" Haruhi asked around the large bite of scrumptious in her mouth.

"It doesn't," Mori confirmed, but then, something else entered his mind. "Did you wish that I would've asked you sooner?" this kind of question, he knew it was different from what he would normally ask; normally, he never wanted to chance making Haruhi uncomfortable, but he found he couldn't help himself. He wanted to know, for the longest time, if the feelings he held had been returned just as secretly.

Haruhi swallowed abruptly, the gulp audible. "Um…"

Then Mori did this strange thing, he relaxed against the back of his chair, folded his hands in his lap and a smirk threatened his lips. He looked like he was only there to enjoy a show, and it was obvious he already knew. He knew Haruhi had wanted him long before either of them were able to express such things. She didn't need to confirm it now, but he still wanted her to. Her words of confirmation meant everything to him.

"Well…" Haruhi said, as she looked away. "I mean…" She looked down at her plate, driving her fork through the mush that had once been cherry cheesecake. She couldn't look at him anymore. His smirk turned to a grin as he noticed the color sprouting on her round cheeks. "Yeah…"

And his grin burst into a smile.

"I wish I had too," the smile was noticeable in his voice.

Haruhi met his eyes, saw his smile and couldn't help but smile back, small and shy.

They were walking to Haruhi's next class, close enough to almost touch, and they did a couple times, Haruhi's shoulder brushing up against Mori's elbow. Eventually, however, that changed. Mori's fingers touched the skin of Haruhi's forearm and they skimmed down until Haruhi's hand began gravitating to his. Their fingers met with no hesitation, sliding into place, fingers intertwined.

…

Sebastian hadn't left the house. It had been a day already. And he hadn't even had the energy to bathe, which was almost unforgivable. Here he was, a demon spiraling down a vortex of humanly depression. What was wrong with him? He was an illustrious being of the darkest depths of the world! He wasn't even a part of this world goddammit! The only tie to humanity he should have was his capability of looking like one!

He stood with a start, a look of deprecation adorned his face and he realized that it didn't matter if he hadn't taken a damn bath in over a day. He was made of nothing but the essence of evil, he didn't need a human body, he didn't need to do human things… he needed a soul and he needed to rip it to pieces and devour every bit of it.

A smirk twisted sinisterly up his face, his eyes glowing so bright it could make the ocean sizzle and evaporate (evidence that at least one writer is clearly delusional). He came to the clear conclusion that the only way he'd ever be happy was if he embraced that terrible part of him that craved the very thing that never was and never would be a part of him: a soul, a pure and good soul.

He was just about to go looking for one when all of a sudden his front door flew open and in walked a very nicely dressed Ciel, looking every bit as manly as he had the last time Sebastian had seen him. He vaguely recalled that he hadn't even ordered anything at that time, what a waste of an outing, because it's not like he had all eternity to live or anything… except he did.

"What're you doing here?" Sebastian asked.

Ciel raised an eyebrow and proffered a red rose. "What do you mean? I'm just delivering my daily rose," Ciel explained innocently, his head tilted to the side ever-so-slightly. Then he smiled.

"I don't recall hearing you knock… nor did I open the door for you," Sebastian responded irritably.

"As far as I'm concerned, you don't have to anymore, you've already done it once," his smile turned impish.

Sebastian stared. "What do you want?"

Ciel sighed, placing the blooming rose on the small side table in the entryway before looking upon the tormented demon. "To divulge a secret or two, since it seems you're incapable of figuring them out on your own…"

"Oh?" Sebastian couldn't help but be slightly interested. "What sort of secrets?"

Ciel smiled, "The kind that could be quite useful to you."

"Really? And you plan to tell me for free?" Sebastian asked. Ciel was a demon now, demons never gave anything for free.

"I suppose it all depends on you," Ciel smirked. "Call it a gamble on my part."

Sebastian couldn't help but be taken aback, his eyebrows pulling together.

"Oh, don't give me that, you'll be thankful, I assure you," Ciel said as he brushed past Sebastian and walked straight into the living room and flopped down onto the cushy couch.

"What kind of game are you playing?" Sebastian asked, following the attractive young man into the living room, getting more frustrated by the second. He hated not knowing what was going through the other man's head, especially when it involved him.

"A game that only I can lose… either that, or we both win, most likely," Ciel said. "Are you ready to listen?"

"What is it that you'll be winning exactly?"

"My god Sebastian, stop your childish worrying and just listen to me! You won't be disappointed, I'm serious."

Sebastian squinted. "Fine, tell me."

Ciel lost no time. "You remember that group of boys you went to that sketchy burlesque club with?" Ciel began and Sebastian nodded. "Well, their little girlfriend is dying," it was a flippant statement, the blip that was the sad excuse for a human existence.

"She's Grell's assignment," Sebastian stated in realization after he'd had a moment to process the information that had been given to him. He had his phone out before Ciel could stop him, intending to let his idiot ex-lover know.

"He knows," Ciel said, a look of distaste crossing his face as he looked at Sebastian's mobile device. "The Undertaker was fool enough to give it away, unfortunately," Ciel watched as Sebastian lowered his cell, putting it back in his pocket. "I've a person in the position to save the girl, but I think he isn't quite bright enough to understand the situation fully. Lack of information is the obvious cause for this, but you know how loathe I am to give up a good game," Ciel crossed his legs and looked up at Sebastian.

"Save her?" Sebastian asked. "You're saving her?" Sebastian's tone was incredulous.

"Well, I'm not going to save her, but there does seem to be something about this one, have you noticed?" Ciel inquired. "Even the Undertaker seems rather smitten, which is rather disgusting, but each to his own."

"They're all smitten with her," Sebastian drawled.

"Exactly," Ciel said, a smile threatening his lips. "She's the center of their world. What wouldn't they do to save her?"

Sebastian stayed silent.

"Nothing. There's nothing they wouldn't do for her. They'd even go as far as selling their souls. I've already proven that," the smile was snide and grim on Ciel's lips. "Wouldn't you like to prove it as well?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. Mori flashed through his mind. He was beginning to understand what Ciel was insinuating.

"Why are you doing this for me?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm not. Sadly, this is the only way I can think of to fulfill a certain promise I made to a certain doomed individual," Ciel crossed his arms, pouting slightly. "You'd be doing me a favor, think of it as payment for setting you free." Ciel stood, his copper eyes meeting Sebastian's. His face was suddenly serious. "All you have to do is get Mori to sellout, an easy purchase if you say the right things, make the right moves. I know you can, you haven't lost an inch, though I've continuously gained a few," his smile was playful, in the only way Ciel's smile could be: dangerously playful. "That's all," and the young man was headed for the front door.

"Ciel," Sebastian called. "I can't trust you."

The young man turned, "Oh, but you can. Ask the Undertaker if you need confirmation, he knows too much for his own good." Then the young demon smiled again, this smile hiding no agenda. "I have no wish to lead you astray… not anymore, Sebastian."

The door shut behind him with a soft click, and Sebastian stood in the hall, wondering what he should do. He didn't wonder for long though, because within just a few moments, the devil inside him began to show its menacing face and he began to remember what he really was. He would confirm Ciel's story and decide from there.

Before he did any of that, however, he needed to fix something. He was in great need of a shower.

…

Mori had just gotten back to the apartment, and as it was still early afternoon, he expected to be the only one home. He shuffled out of his shoes, his mind occupied with the remembrance of the softness that had been Haruhi's fingers, twined with his own. He couldn't seem to get it out of his mind. If her fingers with that soft, he could only imagine how soft other parts of her were. He didn't have a very long time to think upon it though, because he had just entered the kitchen and what was waiting there left no room for other thoughts. At the kitchen table sat a cross-looking Honey, his arms just as crossed as the rest of him… but really, only his arms were crossed… across his chest where they made him look very intimidating, especially since he wasn't really small anymore.

"Mitsukuni," Mori stated as their eyes locked.

"Takashi," Honey replied, his eyes venomous slits. "Where were you? You're usually home by this time."

"How would you know?" Mori replied, obviously referencing the fact that Honey hadn't been living with them for a while now.

Honey just scoffed.

"I was with Haruhi," Mori said a moment later.

Honey bristled (quite like a toothbrush), "What were you two doing?"

"Eating lunch," Mori said and went to the cupboard to retrieve a cup before getting himself some juice out of the fridge.

"That's not it," Honey said. "What were you two really doing?"

"Just that," Mori wasn't one to budge easily, especially when he had already told the truth.

"You're lying!" Honey accused outright, standing on top of his seat.

"Not everyone likes women only for what's between their legs," Mori replied severely, his voice not rising, but his tone clearly communicating how fed up he was with Honey.

Honey didn't seem to have a comeback aside from his fiery expression. Mori looked up at his old friend for a span of several seconds, waiting, challenging him to say something back. He didn't. Mori nodded once, turning to leave, but again, he was stopped in his tracks.

"So… you were having lunch with Haruhi?" Hikaru asked, his eyes downcast, his voice strained as if he was trying desperately to keep emotion out of it. He wasn't doing a very good job.

"Yeah," Mori responded, blocking out any pangs of guilt he would have typically felt. The time for guilt was over.

"... like a date?"

Honey's eyes bored into Mori's back, having enough power to count for his own and Hikaru's. They waited. Mori didn't hesitate as long as he had expected.

"Yeah, a date."

The world went silent.

…

It was quiet. Too quiet. Where was everybody?

"OH! Look at this!" Kaoru ran over to a corner that held a large, red chainsaw. "Why do you have a chainsaw… in your apartment?"

"Oh, I'm a psychotic serial killer," Grell said with a flourish.

Kaoru raised an amused eyebrow. "You're really weird, you know that?"

Grell smiled before taking several steps forward, closing the space between him and his favored twin. Kaoru was pulled in close to the red maniac as Grell's arms wrapped snuggly around him. Their eyes locked.

Grell chuckled. "And you think I'm joking," Grell said, before giving Kaoru a quick peck on the lips.

Kaoru smiled up at Grell, unable to stop himself, and he would've let Grell start making out with him, but… "So, why did you suddenly decide to move… today?" Kaoru asked, extricating himself from Grell's arms.

Grell hardly missed a beat, "Oh, I just felt it was time to get my own place, you know, so I could be more strategically alone with you," he said, getting closer to Kaoru, but not putting his arms around him. He simply got close enough so he could look directly into his boyfriend's eyes, their heights matching almost perfectly.

"Oh, really? Is that the reason?" it was obvious Kaoru was feeling a little bit nervous, for some reason.

"Mmm, it was," Grell responded, his hand finding its way to Kaoru's back as he pulled him in closer. "That very reason," Grell whispered before bringing his lips to Kaoru's where they glided leisurely together, in a gentle kiss.

…

He wished he hadn't woken up as soon as his eyes opened. Everything was blurry and it felt like a cinder block was resting on his forehead. Probably the worst part about the situation though, was that he still had yet to locate his glasses, and therefore couldn't remedy the fact that everything was completely out of focus. There was also the matter of him forgetting where exactly he was.

He rolled over and reached to where his bedside-table would normally be, but found nothing but empty air. His bed didn't feel quite as wide as normal either, in fact he was in danger of falling off it completely. Which he did, he wasn't quite moving with his regular agility, if he'd had any before at all. He fell on the softest carpet he'd ever felt in his life, almost as if it had never been tread on in all its existence. He looked up, trying to make sense of his surroundings, but the thing was, he really couldn't make out a damn thing… then he remembered where he was. He was in a man's apartment, a man by the name of Josef. He wondered if he looked back at the bed he'd been on –if he could see that is-, if he would find Josef there as well, lying on the other side; however, Kyoya's suspicions were soon quenched. He could hear a voice coming from someplace other than the bedroom he was presumably in. It sounded like Josef was talking to someone.

Kyoya stood, slowly, the world going shaky around him as he finally made it to his feet. He took several steps forward before he promptly ran into a wall. Josef's voice quieted.

In a few seconds, Kyoya could hear what sounded like a door opening, directly beside him.

"You're up!" Josef said excitedly. He was, apparently, having none of the aftereffects that came along with drinking too many toxins.

"Sort of," Kyoya admitted. His voice was a lot less pained than he'd expected.

"Come on, I made some hangover soup! Haejangguk!"

Kyoya looked in the direction he believed Josef was located. His vision slowly began to clear until the image was as flawless as Josef's paintings. His transition, even without any of the usual intense emotions, was progressing. Kyoya even began to notice that his headache was lessening with each passing moment.

"Alright…"

When they got to the kitchen Kyoya stared at the monstrous cauldron-like pot that sat atop the stove, bubbling happily.

"Are you expecting company?" Kyoya asked, curious as to why Josef had made so much and wondering if there was already someone here, considering Josef had just been talking to someone.

"Oh no, I just couldn't find a recipe that wasn't in bulk, so I just went ahead and made it. I figured I could give most the leftovers to Oz, he can't cook to save his life and he'd put it to best use anyway," he said while continuously smiling. "Although, to his credit, he can make any drink ever, I mean, it only makes sense," there was something more to Josef's words than what he was saying. Was this Oz person, perhaps, a drunk? Kyoya wondered. At the same time though, he didn't much care.

"What is it exactly?" Kyoya asked, eyeing the hot stuff suspiciously, it didn't look much like something he would want to ingest while hungover, maybe not even otherwise. So many strange looking lumps bobbed about in the red liquid. "Do I smell gochugaru?"

"Yes! It's Korean, so it has Napa and some other veggies, it's a beef broth and there's congealed ox blood! All those little brown blobs," and Josef picked up a ladle to jab at the brown floating lumps. "Those are the blood."

"Interesting," Kyoya said.

Josef plopped the ladle into the pot then spun toward a cupboard, retrieving a bowl and coffee mug.

"I only have one bowl," he smiled sheepishly, then ladled a generous bowlful and handed it to Kyoya. "The spoons are over there in that drawer," he pointed then went back to manning his ladle.

Kyoya got two spoons and handed one to Josef when he'd finally turned around. The two of them stood looking into their soup in silence for a moment.

"Itadakimasu," Kyoya finally offered, and spooned up a good amount of the soup. It tasted good, spicy and flavorful, and the blood wasn't even gross. It was like gelatin meat, which wasn't as bad as that description made it sound. "It's good," Kyoya said, looking up at Josef who was at present munching on the blood.

"You sound surprised. Never had a man cook for you before?" Josef asked, his voice floating in clouds of flirtation, his eyes inquiring.

Kyoya paused for a moment, stirring his soup absently. "Aside from my chefs (this also included Mori), no, I can't say I have," he replied matter-of-factly.

"You and Tamaki are no joke, want some rice?" Josef asked, pulling out a Tupperware from the fridge, filled with chilled rice.

"Please," Kyoya responded.

…

"Tama-chan, guess what," Honey said as he walked into the king's glorious chambers. "Tama-chan?" he appeared to not be in the room. But then again, the room was so cluttered, it was just really hard to tell.

"What could you possibly have to say to me? You, who left the hosts of your own volition, can only have one thing to say to me, your king! Bow down before me now," and Tamaki appeared out of the pile of satiny pillows. "And beg for forgiveness! And maybe, just maybe, I'll pardon you for your treacherous criminal acts of despicability!"

"Eh?" was Honey's intelligent response.

"Oh… you didn't come to apologize to me?" Tamaki asked, his voice losing its kingly edge.

"No, wasn't planning on doing that," Honey confessed, though it appeared as if he didn't much care.

"Well," Tamaki began. "What did you come here for then?"

"I wanted to tell you about the news," Honey said.

"News?"

"About Haruhi," Honey clarified.

"Haruhi?"

"She and Mori went on a date," Honey said with a dramatic sigh.

And in that moment, Tamaki imploded. Not literally, but he might as well have, because his insides felt destroyed, on fire, and painful. He wished he'd just died right then and there, that's how much he couldn't stand hearing what Honey had just said.

"… What?" His voice was much stronger, angrier than he expected.

Honey looked surprised at the curt question.

"Mori and Haruhi are… dating? I guess?" Honey said, his voice on the timid side.

Tamaki didn't have a response to that. He could only stare. Granted, he wasn't really staring at anything in particular. He wasn't watching anything in front of him, he was just seeing his memories pass by. Everything Haruhi and him had been through, every time he thought she might return his feelings… the last few weeks where she wouldn't even look him in the eye.

A shadow cast over Tamaki's face and he became the picture of indifference. Inside however, indifference was not what he was feeling.

"Doesn't matter," Tamaki said, though it was ground out as more of a gravelly whisper. "She can do whatever she wants… whoever she wants."

But even though he said that, he didn't mean a word.

"Oh… Ok, I thought you'd… like, care," Honey said, and left the room.

Tamaki collapsed back onto his mountain of pillows and stared up at his ceiling for a moment. He wished he didn't care, but he couldn't help himself. It was Haruhi.

"I care," Tamaki said to the ceiling. That was the problem, he cared too much.

…

It was evening by the time Kyoya started heading home. He'd accompanied the strange Josef character to his friend Oz's apartment to deliver a large quantity of the Haejangguk, and had somehow ended up drinking coffee again with both of the males. It turned out that the Oz character was quite the businessman and had aspirations to open a café sometime soon; it seemed like a perfect fit for the tall, green-eyed man. Needless to say, Kyoya somehow ended up liking both of them, which was a little weird for him. Maybe American's were just easier to make a good impression on… but that couldn't be it, because most of the time all the American's he had met thought he was too uptight and didn't want anything to do with him aside from business.

He hadn't really wanted to leave, which was even stranger for him, but Josef had to go work wherever it was he said. It seemed the guy worked in several places; at least, that's what Kyoya had been able to gather. It was a bit strange he supposed.

None of that mattered though, for all he knew, he'd never see those two weird people ever again. What mattered was that he was headed back to the apartment… and he really didn't want to. Mori and Haruhi went on their lunch date today. What else had they done?

He shouldn't think about it. It'd eat him up. And the last thing he needed right now was to let his dastard emotions get out of hand. He should start considering what to do after this apparent 'transition' thing was completed. That was a puzzle, one that could take a long time to figure out if he wanted to continue... living… if he planned on keeping his friends as friends.

His hands tightened on the wheel as he turned the car into the parking garage. He parked and rested his forehead against the leather of the wheel, breathed through his nose. This was going to be awful, having to look at her, to see her. If only she wasn't everything he wanted. He banged his head on the steering wheel once, then let himself out of the car and started the dreadful walk inside.

Making his entrance silent was impossible, the door squealed regardless of how slowly he opened it, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. It was as if Honey had been anxious for his return; the boy-now-young-man jumped on him as soon as his shoes were off.

"Kyoya! Finally!" Honey yelled. "You're the only one who can fix this!" but Kyoya wondered if Honey actually believed what was coming out of his own mouth. Kyoya didn't try to reply, his main focus was on maintaining his balance. "Mori has officially ruined everything!" Honey continued.

Kyoya somehow managed to disentangle himself from Honey's longer-than-normal limbs. "His date went well then, I assume," Kyoya spoke in a quiet tone, figuring that was the best way to feign indifference.

Honey, who had been previously walking backwards in front of Kyoya, stopped, letting Kyoya's chest bump his. "You knew?" he managed to say after being slack-jawed for a brief moment.

"Is that so surprising?" Kyoya asked, then maneuvered around the immobile blond boy-man, heading for his room. He intended to fall asleep and never wake up.

However, the universe seemed to be completely against him. He somehow managed to run into Tamaki, colliding with the other's shoulder. Then he was suddenly shoved up against the wall, his shoulder blades smarting from the abrupt impact.

"Kyoya," Tamaki said, and his voice was oddly vehement. "It can't stay this way."

"Stop it."

Tamaki's violet eyes were wide, and Kyoya knew his own were dead of emotion, he felt the deadness all over his face. Tamaki's hands slowly let Kyoya go, but it felt like more than just the physical separation. Tamaki took a step back, a subtle shift from surprise to anger taking place on his features.

"She's happy. Do you want to take that from her?" Kyoya asked, keeping his voice low. He figured everyone was home by now, and the walls in this place weren't exactly sound-proof.

Now Tamaki just looked miserable, completely defeated. Kyoya glanced sideways and saw that Honey looked much the same. It wasn't his fault, but it felt that way, somehow. But even though his heart ached for his friends and even himself, he didn't care. For him, his only happiness could be found in Haruhi's. At least, that's what he was trying desperately to believe.

He made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

…

The problem with being a somewhat reclusive psycho, was the fact that actually going out was sort of a big deal, and required research on how to actually get places. So that was why it was taking an excruciating amount of time to get to the apartment where Haruhi was living. After becoming the owner of his dinky little flower shop, he'd basically forgotten that his small bit of street, and the other shops that occupied it, didn't encompass the whole of the world. Just Undies'.

He'd finally come upon it though. All he had to do was knock on, or possibly break down, the right door. He wasn't sure which would be better to do. Lucky for him though, he didn't end up needing to do either because that one friend – normally the wearer of the glasses – opened one of the doors. Normally-the-Wearer-of-the-Glasses turned around and abruptly stopped when he caught sight of Undies.

Kyoya's face became instantly stern as he spotted the silver-haired menace. He hadn't seen him since the burlesque club and he didn't like the sight of him now. He'd rather not deal with the weirdo at the moment…

"Hello!" Undies called out.

…it appeared Kyoya had no choice.

"Hello…" Kyoya didn't sound particularly enthralled.

"Do you think you'll be out long? Is anyone else home?" Undies asked unwittingly.

Kyoya blinked, his features that of an annoyed cat. "I'm not sure how long I'll be out nor am I completely aware of anyone else's presence inside," he was lying, he knew everyone aside from Kaoru was inside and fast asleep. He didn't actually know where Kaoru was, which was rather unlike himself. He tended to keep close tabs on all of his friends' whereabouts.

"Well, if you could just give Haruhi to me, that'd make everything a lot easier," Undies said, brushing off Kyoya's obvious lie.

Kyoya just stared.

"Don't lie, I can see right through you. You're practically a ghost by now," Undies' smile was a bit on the crazed side. "Pretty soon you'll be nothing but darkness."

Kyoya's eyes changed from their indifferent stare to a look of realization.

"You know," he said.

"I do," Undies confirmed. "And I also know who it is that you're looking for."

He hadn't thought of it before, the thought of using Kyoya for his own gain hadn't even crossed his mind… until now.

Kyoya looked suddenly desperate. "Who? Tell me," Kyoya took several steps closer to the Undertaker.

"It's Grell you're after… I'm on your side," the sincerity in Undies' voice was impossible to miss.

Kyoya felt a chill run across his being, he could feel his heart harden and drop to his gut.

"There… there must be some mistake."

Kyoya loved Haruhi… he cared for Kaoru too though.

"There's no mistake. I don't often make those… on purpose," his smile lengthened.


End file.
